


And If These Wings Shall Ground Me

by BeautyButterBae



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Amnesia, Angels, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild Blood, Mutilation, Permanent Injury, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyButterBae/pseuds/BeautyButterBae
Summary: Akaashi is an actual angel. Bokuto only wants him to be happy. He never intended to fall in love with someone so far out of his reach.(Aka Bokuto finds a one-winged angel on his way home one night and quickly discovers that the creature has lost far more than the ability to fly. Making the rash decision to help him, Bokuto learns that he’s in for more than he initially bargained for.Akaashi has reasons to believe that Bokuto is more of an angel than he is.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: You may want to proceed with caution if you’re sensitive to mentions of blood/large wounds etc (although that’s only a small part of the fic, so perhaps you needn't worry too much.)
> 
> I initially came up with the idea for this fic around April and had craved for an Angel!Akaashi AU right up until September when I could finally sit down and try to make this story happen. I hope that what I managed to come up with will be enjoyable and/or heartbreaking, depending on how you view it. :)
> 
> I really hope you can enjoy this fic, even if it’s just a tiny bit. <3 Thank you for reading!

_I SHOULD be glad of loneliness_  
_And hours that go on broken wings,_  
_A thirsty body, a tired heart_  
_And the unchanging ache of things,_  
_If I could make a single song_  
_As lovely and as full of light,_  
_As hushed and brief as a falling star_  
_On a winter night._

Compensation - Sara Teasdale

* * *

 

He could still remember the freedom.

The endless blue above him dotted with small fluffy clouds.

The cool greens and browns below him and the patches of white he knew were called _snow_.

The landscape changing, the clay roofs and gray concrete and glass growing out from below him, steadily forming a skyline unlike anything he had ever seen.

It was cold, freezing, even. He could feel it prickling his skin, chilling his body but he couldn't possibly notice it less, his entire existence burning with excitement.

He saw the small figures far, far below him, tiny, busy ants walking in all directions – and their vehicles, the _cars,_ coming in so many colors and shapes and sizes.

He inhaled the air, part fresh, part filled with fumes from the lives of humans and adored its novel scent.

He recalled only the sound of wind lifting and caressing him as he glided easily forward.

He remembered it all – so pure, so new, so _beautiful._

And then, all went dark.

A new burn spread through his body and it was not excitement now, but pain.

As though he had lost all control, he felt he could not continue his flight, each swing of his wings sending a new wave of suffering through his body.

He was falling now.

Falling.

Falling.

God, how could anything fall so quickly?

He heard his heartbeat loud and clear, felt the panic surge through his body.

Then, all went dark.

Dark it would stay.

* * *

 

Bokuto walked home, slightly uncertain on his feet after another karaoke outing with Kuroo and company, which as usual hosted (read: prompted him to ingest) plentiful amounts of alcohol.

It had become somewhat of a tradition in recent times – Bokuto and Kuroo calling each other up whenever they needed some emergency cheering up, gathering as many friends as they could find on short notice and singing the night away over some beer.

On this particular occasion, it wasn't Bokuto who needed his spirits lifted, but Kuroo; him and Kenma had another lovers' fight. It was nothing big (it _never_ was, Bokuto noted to himself, as they always apologized and spent the following day practically glued together after every single 'fight'), but the former Nekoma captain fell into a bad habit of worrying too much about his relationship (which, Bokuto wanted to note, was really perfectly fine and he had hardly anything to worry about) which only off-key singing and alcohol could mend. Bokuto sometimes wondered whether Kuroo and Kenma really had any actual issues or Kuroo simply wanted to party, but in the end he trusted his best friend not to be the boy who cried wolf.

Bokuto couldn't exactly say no to karaoke and a night of careless fun either.

He wasn't particularly unhappy with his current life as a 24-year-old – he rented a small, three room apartment which comfortably contained a kitchen, living and bed rooms as well as a spacey bathroom and somehow didn't cost him a fortune despite its convenient location next to a subway station. He had a stable job in retail which perhaps wasn't the height of success, but it paid him decent wages nonetheless. He also had enough time and money to enjoy his hobbies and meet up with friends. It was a low-profile life, but a good one, one which many would wish for.

If he had any complaints, he would have to say that it was all a little… boring. As simple as that was, the monotony of his daily routine was slowly getting to him, even if he didn't mind his job and enjoyed the free evenings. His romantic life was not much to speak of either – one failed relationship after another, everything falling apart once the initial lust or infatuation faded into nothing but memories. Men, women, he had experimented with both sexes and all sorts of shapes, sizes, looks and personalities, but he had yet to find anyone who he truly wanted to stay with for more than a few weeks. He was slowly thinking of giving up, coming to the conclusion that perhaps he wasn't built for long-term relationships, coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't as lucky as Kuroo who was blessed with mutual love from his childhood best friend.

He was living a good life and most of the time he could even say he was happy with it.

But he was nowhere near being _satisfied_. He wondered if he ever would.

 

He buried his fists deep in his pockets, the early January chill biting into his hands. He had once again forgotten his gloves at home. Or rather, he hadn't _forgotten_ , he consciously decided against taking them, simply because the temperature earlier that evening was inching close to ten degrees Celsius. Now it dropped to what felt like below zero, the cold wind causing his features to wrinkle, slowly sobering him.

He wondered if that was the one issue which ruined all of his relationships – his overly optimistic attitude. He would go out into a warm evening only to return with painfully chapped hands. He never did learn.

He hastened his steps, hoping to return into the warm embrace of his home and bed subsequently as soon as it was feasible. He soon found himself stopped by a red light on the crossing and he swayed back and forth, waiting for it to change. He looked up and down the street. There were no cars in sight, and perhaps this would be a good opportunity to get away with jay-walking, as he was genuinely sick of the cold by now.

He considered it, and finally took a step forward. Before he could move further, however, he was frozen in place by a pained groan, reaching him from a small side alley. He stepped back onto the pavement and listened. The sound repeated itself once more. It was a male voice, sounding considerably hurt. It was quiet, but Bokuto could hear the sounds were a cry for help. He bit his lip as he watched the light turn green.

He could walk away. The man was probably just a drunk who lost the keys to his apartment and passed out on his neighbor's doormat. But what if it wasn't? What if someone was badly beat up or stabbed and left there to bleed out? The area was supposed to be a safe one, but Bokuto did hear of some small gang skirmishes in the district. If he left an injured man like that, he was certain he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. He drew his phone out of his pocket and decided to enter the narrow street, if only to peer down it and call an ambulance.

It was dark, as only a small amount of light from the street lamp behind him reached the small alley. Bokuto allowed his eyes to focus and scanned the area. Nothing seemed to be out of place at first glance; he saw some trashcans, cardboard boxes, back doors and bin bags blocking a large part of the way through. He stopped to listen once more. The voice came again, calling his attention to the black plastic bags.

That was when he saw him.

A man, half-naked, covered in blood and absolutely still as he laid on his stomach among the garbage bags prepared for collection. Bokuto couldn't see much, but what he did see was a terrifying sight that made him feel sick. He took deep breaths, letting the winter air wash over him and stepped closer, hoping to assess the man's state. He heard his tired voice once more and was certain that the man was alive. He unlocked his phone and quickly tapped in the emergency number, not pressing the dial button yet. He wanted a last glance, even if it would make him throw up. He raised his smartphone and allowed the light to land on the man.

His mouth fell open immediately.

A large wing, once white, now stained in red was attached to his back. He could see it clearly meld into one of his shoulder blades, lightly swaying in the cold wind, shivering with the muscles on the man's back.

But he was no man. He was an _angel._

Bokuto gaped at him in disbelief, certain his eyes were deceiving him.

He closed his eyes, pinched his wrist and opened them anew, but the man- the angel remained laying in the heap of trash, his lone wing filthy and bending in the wind.

His lone wing.

He took a close look and noticed that the blood ran from a large gash on his back where his other wing should have been.

An injured angel.

He erased the numbers he had typed into his phone and only used it as a flashlight. He couldn't call for an ambulance.

Perhaps encouraged by the alcohol, he stepped even closer and placed his hand on the creature's shoulder. He was cold, but he moaned under his touch. He was still alive. Potentially concussed and half-conscious, but alive.

Bokuto took a deep breath.

It was a terrible decision, really. He couldn't possibly justify it, not even in his partially drunk state.

But he chose to leave his gloves at home yet again.

He lifted the man as gently as he could.

And he carried him home.

* * *

 

When Akaashi woke, all he could see was darkness.

He found it difficult to breathe, and his body shivered.

But he sensed a change.

He was no longer out in the cold winter air that bit at his skin and chilled his body to the core.

He was inside.

But inside of what?

He breathed slowly, trying to understand his current condition.

He was lying face-down on what most certainly felt like a bed.

He could feel something warm and light covering his legs and part of his back; a blanket, he concluded. There seemed to be another one laid over his arms, but leaving the largest part of his back open.

He then focused on the warmth pressed to his chest. He swayed ever so gently and could feel the rubber against his skin. It was a hot water bottle, thawing his cold body, bringing about the most pleasant sensation he could imagine at the moment.

He shifted his attention to his head. It laid on a soft, well-stuffed pillow. As his face was buried in it, he realized that it was the source of the darkness and breathing difficulties.

He slowly raised his head and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room. It proved to be a bedroom, which didn't come off as a huge surprise to him. It was large enough to contain a closet, a large bookshelf, and even a desk pushed under the window. Akaashi didn't spend much time examining its details. Because from what he saw, he could already tell the most important part: it was not _his_ bedroom.

Which begged the natural question: _Whose_ was it?

And subsequently: how did Akaashi get there?

He heard a quiet, metallic noise and footsteps in a nearby room, soon followed by the sound of flowing water. He wasn't alone. This was most likely a good thing, as the person could help him fill the gap in his memory before he flew off and headed in the direction he came from.

Reluctantly, he kicked the blanket off and sat up on the bed. He immediately felt dizzy and closed his eyes, his hands gripping at the wooden frame by the mattress. He was suddenly nauseated and only deep breaths could keep him from heaving up whatever remained in his stomach. He became aware that he must have hit his head at some point. He realized he would have to find a way to overcome the sudden weakness.

It took him a moment, but he finally stood up. His steps were uncertain as he walked forward, but he pressed on, entering the corridor of the apartment through the open door. He had to hold on to a wall to move forward properly, but he slowly teetered his way into the kitchen, where a young man with an odd hairstyle was washing something in the sink, facing away from him.

"Excuse me." Akaashi spoke quietly, apparently hugely startling the man, as he virtually jumped before turning around and looking him over nervously.

"Oh, you're up. Hi." The man uttered tentatively with a careful nod.

Akaashi didn't register the motion and politely continued with what he intended to say. "Forgive me for intruding on your privacy. I can't seem to remember how I got here, but if you would be so kind to open a window for me, I would fly away and never cause you trouble again."

The man looked at him with eyes and mouth wide open, blinking only after a few seconds. "Fly…" he whispered quietly, his eyes turning to his feet. A frown appeared on his lips and Akaashi could hardly comprehend its meaning. He only nodded in affirmation.

"So, you…" the man shook his head and looked up at him, his eyes now sad, melancholic even. "You're… I see."

"What's wrong?" Akaashi asked, confused, beginning to see multiple iterations of the same man in the kitchen. His head was spinning again.

"Can you come with me for a moment?" The man asked quietly, his voice trembling as though he was about to cry. Akaashi agreed, feeling too heavy to refuse.

He was led into a bathroom containing a sink and a toilet. There was a mirror above the sink, and the man encouraged him to stand in front of it.

"I don't know how to say this." The man shook his head before biting his lip. "Just… See for yourself."

Akaashi did as he requested, and gazed into the mirror. There seemed to be nothing wrong with him at first glance; no visible injuries, perhaps a light flush on his cheeks, but everything else seemed in place: both eyes, both ears, both arms, both wings.

Both wings.

No. He could only see one wing in the mirror. He smiled, wanting to laugh at the odd joke. He couldn't see his other wing in the mirror. It must have been a weird prank. He turned to one side and stretched his wing, noticing that it was perfectly fine, a little dirty, perhaps. That left him only the other side to inspect.

He turned to see the other side and his smile disappeared. He couldn't see his other wing. It wasn't _there_. Only a large, red cut was left in its place. He reached to touch it and was suddenly hit with the excruciating pain of the wound, feeling the thick blood on his fingers. He let his hand drop to his side as he watched the gash bleed in the mirror.

He suddenly laughed. A short, hysterical laugh.

Then he screamed.

Then all went dark again.

* * *

 

When the angel collapsed to the floor of the bathroom, Bokuto knew he had fainted.

He carried his unconscious body back to his bed, and kneeled beside it.

 _God_ , what was he _doing_?

He couldn't help questioning himself and shaking his head, as though the motion could set his thoughts into place. He came to a number of conclusions:

Whatever it was that he was doing, it was _insane_. He _must_ have been out of his mind.

There was nothing, he was positive about this, absolutely _nothing_ that he could gain from sheltering an angel. Or was this kidnapping? Bokuto didn't know the angel's will – perhaps he had acted against it. In which case, he was actually committing a crime.

But he _helped_ him, he argued with himself. The angel would have died if it weren't for his intervention. But was that really true or was he just trying to justify his actions? Was that how criminals thought? That they were doing the right thing?

But what else should he have done? Left him there to be eaten by the crows? Tokyo's crows were huge, they could easily devour the poor man with just a small flock. Would that be part cannibalism? Bokuto shook his head. That was most certainly the _least_ of his troubles, not something he should be thinking about at the moment.

He kept thinking back to his phone. He should have just called the ambulance. It was simple, it was safe, and they would have helped the angel. What could he do to help him in his apartment? He categorically did not store anything that could alleviate the pain of someone with an amputated limb (that's what it was, really, Bokuto found that there was no other way of putting it) at home and he wasn't certain whether his first aid kit would even be enough to keep the wound from getting infected. He was painfully aware that he should have just called the ambulance.

But what guarantee did he have that they would actually help him and not transport him to some secret lab and experiment on him until he died? He was an _angel_ , for Christ's sake, he couldn't simply be taken to the ER and treated like a human. Although, Bokuto thought he looked very human – very natural. There was nothing particularly divine about him. He looked young, perhaps a little younger than himself, somewhere in his early twenties and he was a few centimeters shorter. He was thin, a healthy sort of thin and he most likely had visible muscles but Bokuto couldn't concentrate on the parts of his body that weren't his injured back. Not to mention the he looked _Japanese_ , and Bokuto was forced to wonder whether people even knew what Japan was when they wrote about angels in the bible (then again, his knowledge of the bible was limited – he was never religious and only knew the bare basics). The angel had dark hair and smooth features. Bokuto wouldn't know how to describe his face – he was panicking too much to focus on the details or to tell whether or not he was handsome. It didn't matter anyway.

The angel _did_ look very human. The only difference was the wings. Well, the _wing_ , singular. Bokuto hated correcting himself in his mind because the implications of this reached far more than just grammar. His remaining wing was snow white once Bokuto carefully washed the blood off, and it felt both soft and strong under his hands. He touched it for only a few moments, but he stared at it for far longer. It was large – larger than he would imagine – rising from his shoulder blade, making a u-turn just above his shoulder and then reaching all the way to his lower thighs where it tapered off neatly. It was a beautiful thing, incomparable to wings of any bird he knew.

So then, should he have taken him to a vet? _No_ , he sighed, that made even less sense.

In truth, he felt like there was no good solution. Each of them carried risks. He didn't have time to think about every single possible aspect of each idea when he picked the angel up from the alley, but a part of him felt like he had done the right thing.

Because what were the alternatives?

A)Leaving him to die – either bleed out, or freeze, or be eaten by starving birds.

B)Calling the ambulance, which would certainly be able to help him properly, but could potentially cause his imprisonment in a research facility.

C)Calling somebody for help – assuming that anyone could be trustworthy enough to help him take care of an angel and not choose one of the options above.

The last option was to take him home and figure everything out on the fly. The issue was that Bokuto was not particularly good at neither quick decision-making nor deep consideration for his actions, and thus the result was such as it was.

There was an unconscious angel on his bed and he had not a single clue of what he would do next.

When he would wake, he would have to explain everything that happened. But what did he know? He could only say that he found him lying in the street and decided to bring him home – as if that wasn't enough to creep anyone out. He was about 90% certain that he had committed a crime. But he wasn't planning on keeping the angel all to himself; if the creature wanted to leave once he woke, then Bokuto wouldn't force him to stay. He would be worried as all Hell, but he wouldn't insist on keeping him and would let him fly free. _No_ , he closed his eyes. He realized that was the one thing that he wouldn't be able to help him with. He wouldn't be able to fly away, only walk. His chest stung, just thinking about it. God, whatever could have happened to him? Bokuto had no idea how he ended up in such a state.

Bokuto sat by the bed, watching the angel, trying to piece what had just happened into some coherent whole. He had enough strength to stand up and even walk around the house, but just barely enough. He had to support himself on the wall. Did he not feel the pain? He must have been in shock, Bokuto concluded. He wouldn't have been walking otherwise. He possibly had a fever. Bokuto bit his lip. If he _did_ then that would suggest infection and he couldn't see a single way in which he could handle that. If the wound was infected, then he wasn't sure whether there was any hope for the angel. He sincerely hoped that it wasn't, even though it would make perfect sense for it to be so, since he had laid in a pile of trash for God knows how long. How did he even get there? Did someone cut his wing off and leave him there to die? That would be too cruel and Bokuto didn't want to think about such an option. That would imply that there were people who knew about angels and people who would do something so barbaric to something that was, after all, so _human_.

He pressed his palm to the angel's forehead. It wasn't particularly hot. Bokuto exhaled in relief and glanced at the red, slowly drying wound. No infection. For now. That was the only good news.

Bokuto stood up and walked over to the kitchen for the small bottle of antiseptic he kept in one of the cupboards. It was iodine, as far as he could tell, but it was all he had. He hoped it would suffice. He had already rinsed the wound with water when he came home and cleaned the angel of the blood, but he hadn't properly cleansed it yet. He didn't want to do it when the creature was unconscious, even if that seemed more logical.

When he returned to his bedroom, he carried the bottle of antiseptic, along with some sterile gauze and bandages. When he placed them on his bedside table, he noticed that the angel was stirring. He sat down on the floor and held his breath, uncertain of what would happen next.

The angel's eyelids fluttered and he winced in what certainly seemed like pain. Bokuto rested his hand on the bed and leaned closer. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. "How do you feel?"

The angel opened his eyes and focused them on Bokuto in what could only be described as utter resentment.

"You bastard." He hissed through his teeth, before opening his mouth and actually screaming. "You bastard! You did-"

Before he could yell anything else, Bokuto covered his mouth with one hand and pressed the other to the back of his head in panic. "Please don't scream." He pleaded, his own voice hushed and shaking. " _Please._ I _beg_ _you_ , don't scream. It's the middle of the night and if my neighbors hear you they will come here or call the police and I really don't know what that will mean for you. _Nothing_ good can come of it." Bokuto was sniffling now, tears gathering in his eyes. "I _swear_ that I won't hurt you and I know that it's difficult to trust me but I mean well. I will tell you all I know, I promise, I will answer all your questions and I will do what I can to help you, but please, please, _please_ don't scream. I will do whatever you want, but please tell me you won't scream."

Bokuto was on the verge of crying, his face flushed and his eyes all but overflowing. He didn't want to be so rough with him, but he panicked and this was the first thing he thought of. He wished he wouldn't have used force – it only added to the creature's stress. The regret and fear of what may come escaped his body in the form of tears.

Tears had also gathered in the angel's wide open eyes. Bokuto hoped he wasn't afraid of him. The last thing he wanted to be now was intimidating.

The angel finally nodded slowly and Bokuto took both of his hands away. The creature then spoke, quietly now, but still full of rage. "Why did you do this to me?" he asked, rising to his elbows and pointing at his back, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. " _Why_?"

"What- No!" It took Bokuto a moment to understand what he meant and to find the words to explain the misunderstanding. "It wasn't me, I _swear._ If I had done something so horrible, why would I keep you at home? It makes no sense. I know it's not much proof, but trust me when I say that _it wasn't me_."

Bokuto wiped his wet eyes and kept shaking his head. It wasn't him, it _obviously_ wasn't him, but he sounded so Goddamn defensive that he felt like he was almost admitting his fault. He could see no good way of convincing the angel otherwise. He would have to trust him, otherwise… Bokuto didn't even want to think what would happen if the creature didn't believe him.

"Then who?" he asked, helplessly gritting his teeth. He blinked the tears away and took deep breaths now, attempting to calm down enough to pose coherent questions, to think rationally of what was happening around him. "Who's responsible? And how did I end up here?"

Bokuto sighed, looking down at his hands which rested on his lap. "I'm sorry. I don't know who did this to you. I don't know who could possibly be so cruel to hurt you like _this_." He clenched his fists and looked up at the angel. "I wish I knew who it was. The fucker wouldn't get away with this so easily, I'd make sure of it."

"But you _don't_ know… So it doesn't really matter. Whoever it was, they already got away with it." The angel shook his head and slumped back onto the bed. His expression was blank as though he had given up on the anger, but couldn't quite let go of all the emotions stirring inside of him. "So can you at least tell me why I'm here?"

"I found you lying on a pile of trash in an alley as I was walking home." Bokuto explained. "You were covered in blood. I couldn't leave you there like that. How did you even get there?"

"I fell." The angel closed his eyes, attempting to recall as much as he could. "I think I fell. I know I was falling, but I don't know if that was where I landed. Perhaps it had been somewhere else and someone used my unconsciousness to… do _this_ , and then brought me where you found me."

"What else do you know?" Bokuto inquired.

"That's all. I can't remember anything else. Just flying, falling and laying there. That's all." The angel shrugged and immediately winced in pain.

"Are you okay?" Bokuto asked softly, having noticed the change in his expression.

"No, I am _not_ okay." The angel did not hesitate in speaking his mind. "Neither of us know what exactly happened to me, I have no idea where to go from here, and, as if that isn't enough, my back hurts."

"I'm sorry." Bokuto quickly drew back, as though that could make any difference to their current predicament. "Would you like a painkiller? I know it's not much, but that's all I can do to make you feel better."

"Why should I trust you?" the angel threw him yet another hateful glance. "Why should I take _anything_ from you?"

"Because I want to help you?" Bokuto suggested, the words sounding unconvincing even to himself.

"And what sort of proof do I have for that?" the angel scoffed dismissively.

"You don't have any." Bokuto shrugged and continued with a sigh. "And honestly, I can understand why you wouldn't trust me. But I don't think I could hurt you more than you've already been hurt."

"So you're saying I have nothing to lose?" the angel raised his eyebrows, almost shaking his head in disbelief at the nerve of the human.

"I'm saying that you're injured and I want to help you recover." Bokuto looked down at the hands in his lap, his expression solemn, yet all but apologetic. "It's your choice whether or not you accept my help."

The angel exhaled and shook his head properly now before burying his face in the pillow. A few heavy breaths later he raised his head once more and looked at Bokuto with tired eyes. "It really hurts. Will they really kill the pain?"

Bokuto suddenly realized the creature was talking about the ibuprofen-based pills he had offered a moment earlier. "I hope so." He sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. I've only ever used it for headaches and muscle pain, never for something this large. I can't promise that it'll make all of the pain go away. It might just dull it."

The angel closed his eyes. "Okay." His face wrinkled in pain once more. "Okay. That will have to be good enough. Please, give me the painkillers."

Bokuto nodded and rushed to the kitchen, promptly returning with two white pills and a cup of water.

"You know how to take pills, right?" he said, kneeling by the bed and offering the drugs on his open palm.

"I'm not a child." The angel scoffed and threw the pills into his mouth, quickly reaching for the glass of water, almost choking as he swallowed. Once he was finished, he laid the glass on the bedside table and fell back onto the pillow.

"It hurts." The creature sighed, his head tilted on the pillow and watching Bokuto.

"It won't work immediately." Bokuto all but apologized.

"I know. I just don't know what else to say." The angel admitted sadly. "It's the only relevant thing right now."

"I'm sorry." Bokuto fumbled with his hands, wondering how he should proceed. "Then… why don't you tell me your name?"

The angel stared blankly into the space above Bokuto's shoulder for a moment, and the latter began worrying that the creature wasn't interested in conversation, for which he couldn't blame him considering the terrible pain he must have been experiencing. Finally, he whispered. "I don't remember."

"You mean-" Bokuto began but was shortly cut off.

"I mean I don't remember." The angel repeated firmly, then shook his head, as though disbelieving the apparent truth. "I… I don't know. I don't know my name."

Bokuto only watched him with sad eyes. He didn't know what to say. What did one say to a stranger who had forgotten his own name? It seemed like a tragic situation, and Bokuto only felt like apologizing again. He remained silent.

"This is not happening." The angel groaned, burying his face in the pillow once more. "It's absolutely ridiculous." He pronounced, lifting his head. "I couldn't have forgotten something as basic as my name."

"How old are you?" Bokuto offered, wanting to test the waters. "Maybe you can remember that?"

"…Twenty?" The angel replied with nothing but uncertainty. "Twenty-something? I think so, that would make sense."

"It would make sense?" Bokuto tilted his head. "So you don't remember and you're just guessing?"

"Yes." The angel sighed, exasperated. "I don't remember."

"Do you maybe remember where you were before tonight? Before you were flying over Tokyo?" Bokuto suggested, as though his questions could lead the creature closer to his answers.

"No." He sighed. "I don't remember anything from before my flight. I don't remember _anything_. Are you satisfied yet?"

"Why would I be satisfied?" Bokuto replied defensively. "Which normal person would be happy about someone's amnesia?"

"Which normal person would pick up a wounded angel and bring him home?" The creature retorted.

"Fine. Then I'm not a normal person." Bokuto agreed resolutely. "But just because I'm abnormal doesn't mean I have bad intentions."

"I believe you, for all that's worth." The angel shrugged and managed to stop himself from wincing at the pain. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he truly had nothing left to lose. He figured that, compared to all that had happened to him already, it wouldn't hurt to trust the strange man. "So, if I don't remember my name, what do you want to call me?"

"What do you want to be called?" Bokuto wondered, holding his own chin between his thumb and index finger. "I'd guess 'angel' would be too tongue-in-cheek?"

"Yeah, please refrain from calling me just 'angel'." The creature now winced at the uncomfortably impersonal noun. _That's like calling a human 'human'._ He thought in distaste.

"What do you suggest then?" Bokuto jerked his chin up, passing him the baton in the form of the question.

"Let's see…" The angel sighed, glancing around the room. His eyes came to a quick stop at the bedside table. Apart from a small lamp and an alarm clock, Bokuto had displayed a number of pictures on the small surface. The creature's eyes slid from the one where he had an arm around the back of a man with black hair and comparably odd hairstyle, across the one in which he held an owl on his forearm, a huge grin spread on his lips, to one which didn't feature any hint of the man, but was framed regardless. It was a picture of a bird. "What's this?" he said, pointing to the picture.

"Huh?" Bokuto needed a moment to realize what the angel was talking about. He leaned closer and took a look at the picture. "That's a partridge. Why do you ask?"

"Why do I ask?" The angel repeated in surprise. "Why do you have a picture of a partridge by your bed?"

"…I like partridges." Bokuto shrugged innocently.

"Alright." The angel sighed. "What's the scientific name for this sort of partridge?"

"It's a red-legged partridge – Alectoris rufa." Bokuto explained, however remained confused and subtly formed the last syllables into a question.

"Okay." The angel closed his eyes for a moment and hummed before asking: "Does it have a Japanese name?"

" _Akaashi Iwashako_." Bokuto shrugged, his brows knitted as he tried to figure out what the creature was getting at.

"That's it." The angel rose to his forearms. " _Akaashi_. I like it."

"You want me to call you 'Akaashi'?" Bokuto tilted his head, hesitant.

"Yes?" The angel insisted. "Unless you really mind my taking the name of your favorite bird."

"As long as you don't mind being called 'red legs', then I'm fine with it too." Bokuto chuckled lightly.

"Yes, that would be ideal, thank you." Akaashi nodded politely. "And what about you?"

"What about me?" Bokuto asked in confusion.

"What should I call you? You haven't given me your name yet." Akaashi explained, forcing himself not to roll his eyes.

"Oh, it's Bokuto Koutarou." The man introduced himself briefly.

"And which one of these should I use?" Akaashi pressed on.

"Oh, just call me Bokuto." He waved his hand dismissively.

"Bokuto-san." The angel repeated.

"Bokuto-san is fine, too." Bokuto nodded with a light smile.

Akaashi nodded, and turned his head into the pillow again. Bokuto watched as his back rose and fell in time with his slow breaths. After a few moments of silence, the angel raised his head once more.

"…Do you think I'll ever get my memories back?" he asked, his tone hopeful but hesitant, his eyes filled with melancholy.

"I don't know." Bokuto replied honestly. "But I think you might. Memories don't disappear, they just, you know, hide. You just need to find a way to access them again."

"Thank you."Akaashi closed his eyes, laying his head back onto the pillow.

"How do you feel? Any better?" Bokuto asked, concern clear in his voice.

"Yes, it's not as bad now." Akaashi nodded. It still hurt quite a bit but he couldn't deny the improvement.

"Do you think you'll be able to go to sleep now? You must be really tired." Bokuto spoke softly, wondering whether or not it would be better to leave the angel to himself for the rest of the night. He had spoken to him long enough and he must have been exhausted after all of the day's events.

"Yes, I think I'd like to sleep." Akaashi hummed quietly, pressing his face deeper into the pillow.

Bokuto bit his lip for a moment before speaking. "I think we should dress your wound before you fall asleep. So that it doesn't get infected if you roll over at night."

"Will it hurt?" Akaashi opened his eyes, expectant of the worst scenario.

"I'll have to disinfect it so… yeah, probably." Bokuto cast his gaze down. He was not looking forward to performing the procedure.

"Okay." Akaashi exhaled slowly. "Please just do what you must."

Bokuto nodded slowly, then stood up and froze. He remained still for a moment, lost in thought. He then headed to the bathroom and returned a moment later, wearing a pair of latex gloves. He figured that he could keep the basic sanitary principles if he had the means for it. He also carried two towels – one wet and one dry.

"Let me apologize beforehand." Bokuto warned, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"It's fine, there's no need." The angel sighed. "Just do it."

"Okay." Bokuto nodded, leaned toward his back and lightly pressed the wet towel to the wound. Akaashi flinched, feeling the unpleasantly cold fabric cling to his back. He soon felt the water seep into his injury and the pain began flaring up once more. He released a quiet moan, and tried to focus on breathing in and out, on _anything_ that wasn't the cloth weighing on the large gash on his back.

"Okay. You're okay." Bokuto reassured softly, pulling the towel from his back and letting the cool air soothe some of the pain. He dabbed at the leftover water with the dry towel, and despite his best efforts to be gentle, Akaashi couldn't keep his muscles from tensing as the man pulled at the skin around the injury. "The good news is that it's not bleeding anymore."

"Thank God…" Akaashi whispered in premature relief.

"But that also means that I can safely disinfect it now, which is probably what I should do." Bokuto bit his lip briefly. "But that will definitely hurt. So you have to tell me whether you're ready for that."

"I'm fine." The angel lied. He wasn't fine at all, and rather, genuinely afraid of the pain, but he knew that it would be better to have the wound properly cleansed. He was aware that the consequences of leaving the wound as it was would be far _far_ more unpleasant than simple disinfection. "Just get over with it, please."

"Alright." Bokuto agreed and reached for the bottle of iodine. He unscrewed the cap and cringed as the pungent smell hit his nostrils. He hoped that it wouldn't hurt the angel as badly as it smelled.

He held the bottle out above the angel's back and hesitated for a moment. He wondered if just pouring it over the wound was a good idea. He would prefer to use a dropper, even if that would take more time, but he couldn't find one anywhere and decided to settle for what he had. He now pressed the dry towel close to Akaashi's side, so as to allow it to catch the excess fluid. He stretched his hand out a few centimeters above the wound and tilted the bottle.

At first, Akaashi only felt the thick wetness of the fluid on his back. Only after a moment could he feel the real burn the disinfectant left in his wound. It was intense and pierced deep into his body, knocking the breath out of his lungs. When he could breathe again, he only released pained groans, which escaped his throat in time with every breath as he clawed at the mattress and clung to the pillow. When Bokuto poured more of the liquid on the injury, Akaashi couldn't help the scream rising from his voice box, which he could only block with the pillow he pressed to his mouth. He felt like his back was being torn apart, stabbed by razor-sharp claws or cut messily with a dull saw. His entire body pulsed with the pain, his head spinning, his muscles contracting at random and refusing to be controlled. He practically howled from the pain, his body spastically writhing on the bed in hysteria.

By the time Bokuto was done, the angel acknowledged that at some point he began crying, the tears following suit of his screams – out of his body with no regard for his surroundings. When the man wiped his back with the dry towel and set the bottle of merciless liquid back onto the bedside table, Akaashi regained his senses enough to notice how wet his own cheeks were and how hot his face felt. The terrible pain was slowly fading, the angel finally noticed, feeling a stream of cool air on his back.

"I'm sorry." He heard the quite voice from behind his head. It was high-pitched and followed by a sniffle. "I'm so sorry."

With some effort, Akaashi managed to turn his head. He saw Bokuto standing above him and waving a paper fan at his wound in hopes of cooling it, wet streams coming down his flushed cheeks, his eyes closed and his features wrinkled in pain. A different sort of pain.

"It's fine." The angel assured, his voice rough from the screaming, still wet from his own tears. "It's not your fault."

Bokuto fell to his knees by the bed, his head facing the ground. "I know." He sobbed, wiping his cheeks. "But I honestly can't stand it."

" _You_ can't stand it?" Akaashi all but felt the hurt inside of his body transform into rage. "What am _I_ supposed to say? Why are _you_ crying anyway?"

"Because I wanted to help you and I only ended up hurting you more." Bokuto spoke loudly, no longer crying, anger at himself now filling him entirely. "Because I _promised_ to help you and then fucked it all up."

"Why do you even _care_?" Akaashi scoffed in frustration. "I'm a complete stranger, it shouldn't _matter_ to you what happens to me."

"Because the moment I found you, the moment I saw what happened to you, you stopped being a stranger and became someone who needed help." Bokuto spoke resolutely, his voice strong and earnest. "It's so _easy_ to just close your eyes and move on because _who gives a fuck what happens to a stranger_ , but I _can't_ do that. You're a fellow human being, who I found wounded and bleeding out. Who cares if someone's a stranger if they need help? No one deserves to suffer just because others are too far up their asses to reach out their hand to someone in need."

"I've been picked up by an idealist, how lovely." The angel rolled his eyes, speaking in the most sarcastic tone he could muster.

"Maybe you were." Bokuto snapped back. "Or maybe that's one huge excuse. Because maybe I don't know why I picked you up and I don't know why I care. Maybe I just felt the need to help you and maybe I don't have a good reason for it."

"Maybe you just want to help me to reap the benefits of housing an angel?" Akaashi suggested, slowly losing his venom. He was tired of the argument and he was not in the mood for thinking what ulterior motives his seemingly kind host could hide. He wanted to believe that Bokuto really was kind and did not want to use him. But what sort of proof did he have anyway? It was nothing but wishful thinking.

"No." Bokuto denied firmly. "I couldn't care less that you're an angel. I would have helped you if you were a human just as well."

"But you wouldn't bring me to your house then." Akaashi shook his head, feeling as though both of them had already lost the discussion.

"No." The man agreed. "But does it matter? So long as you would have received help?"

"I don't know." The angel sighed, closing his eyes and pressing his cheek to the pillow. "Honestly, I don't know."

The room fell into tense silence for a few moments. It was Bokuto who broke it.

"…I'm sorry." He apologized once more. "I might be trying too hard. All I know is that I really want to help you. I'm sorry if I can't properly explain why. But you can be sure that hurting you is the last thing I want to do."

"I know." Akaashi shook his head and opened his eyes. "No one who would want to hurt me would be able to cry over disinfecting a wound."

Bokuto smiled at this and exhaled in relief. The angel allowed a small shadow of a smile on his lips as his eyes met the gaze of his host. He then closed his eyes once more and shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed. "All of this is just a lot to take in, I'm sure you understand." He explained.

"I do." Bokuto nodded. "I shouldn't get upset. It really won't get us anywhere."

"Well, I guess I could say the same thing." The angel agreed. "I shouldn't vent my frustrations on you, Bokuto-san. So far you've treated me better than I deserve."

"I guess this is difficult for both of us." Bokuto sighed. "Though you have it harder, obviously. I took you in out of my own free will, and it's not like you ever wanted to-"

"That's alright." Akaashi cut him off. "I'm aware of my circumstances. You don't need to say it out loud. Let's just agree that it's difficult for both of us."

"Right. Sorry." Bokuto hung his head low, realizing his own mistake.

Silence flooded the room and formed a wall between them for the following moments as Akaashi blocked everything out by closing his eyes. Meanwhile Bokuto stared at the floor, feeling his heart pound in his chest, worrying about what he should do next and everything else that was yet to come.

This time, it was the angel's voice which echoed through the room first. "Are we still planning to dress the wound for the night? I would really like to sleep soon."

"Yeah, I think we should." Bokuto replied, focusing on the issue at hand. "Could you sit up for a moment?"

Akaashi nodded, and with some effort managed to push himself off of the bed and into a kneeling position (proper _seiza_ , Bokuto noted). The actual dressing ended up being the simplest part of the procedure, as it only required pressing clean gauze to the wound and securely bandaging it in place.

Once the man had finished, the angel nodded in silent gratitude and laid back down, immediately closing his eyes.

"Akaashi." Bokuto spoke softly, kneeling by the bed. "If you ever need me, just call my name. I'll be sleeping in the living room. I don't care if it's the middle of the night – wake me up if anything happens. Okay?"

"Okay." The angel replied, his words slow and slurred. He was just about falling asleep. "Good night."

"Sleep well, Akaashi." Bokuto wished and left the room shortly.

He would soon learn that sleeping would not be an issue for the angel.

It would be waking that would bring about the worst nightmares.

* * *

 

It was still dark out when Bokuto began stirring on the sofa.

He assumed it was the uncomfortable cushion that caused him to wake, and so tried to rearrange it to ease the strain on his neck and fall back asleep.

Sleep, however, seemed out of his reach.

He pulled the blanket up to his chin and curled up, hoping that the extra warmth would allow him to relax – to no avail.

He finally opened his eyes in resignation and stared at the once-white ceiling in the deep night gloom.

That was when he heard it.

A quiet whimper.

The soft, high-pitched voice came from his bedroom.

Bokuto rubbed his eyes, sat up, let his legs down onto the rug and slowly stood up. He knew his apartment well enough to traverse it without turning on the light, and so only held on to the wall as he took careful steps forward.

Reaching the corridor, he noticed warm light coming from his room – his night lamp, he concluded quickly. He also took note of the fact that with every step, the voice was louder and clearer. Loud enough for him to notice that it was, in fact, the sound of weeping. His chest suddenly felt tight and weak.

Placing his hand on the doorframe, he leaned into the room and spoke softly: "Akaashi? Did something happen?"

The angel's only response was burying his face in the pillow and trying to calm his shaken breath.

"What's wrong?" Bokuto asked, stepping closer to the bed, his voice growing slightly louder, more concerned. "Does it hurt again?"

Akaashi only shook his head, still not raising his face to meet Bokuto's.

"Then what's wrong?" Bokuto's voice trembled in worry as he kneeled by the bed. "Akaashi, talk to me. Please. I won't be able to help you otherwise."

"Look at me." The angel pulled his head up suddenly, the words sniffled and broken. His face was red, eyes swollen and cheeks wet. Bokuto felt tears well in his own eyes at the sight. "Just look at me. There's nothing you can do to help me. I… I…"

Akaashi motioned to the small mirror on Bokuto's bedside table, and shook his head, biting his lip before sobs tore through his mouth, tears escaping his closed eyes, his fists pressed into the mattress. His body heaved with every cry which flowed out of his mouth, and his arms shook helplessly. Bokuto only watched him in silence, his vision blurring with his own tears, the tightness in his throat too strong to allow him to offer any words of comfort.

Akaashi now watched him through his swollen eyes, opening and closing his mouth, stifling the sobs that attempted to escape his throat. "I can't fly." He finally spoke and his voice was utter pain – rough and wet and broken. "I'll _never_ fly again."

"I know." Bokuto admitted. He too was crying now, despairing over the truth, which he refused to openly acknowledge earlier, sympathizing with the poor soul which suffered most with his face down on the bed and his body writhing in pain which could hardly compare to the simple physical one he had experienced earlier that night. Akaashi couldn't fly with just one wing. And that was all he had left. A single, useless wing. It was beyond devastating – Bokuto couldn't find a word strong enough to describe the angel's position. He could only weep alongside him. "I'm so sorry. Isn't there anything I could do?"

Akaashi shook his head, before laying it down on its side on the pillow, facing Bokuto. His red eyes seemed to light up for a moment, but this was immediately followed by a pained grimace. The angel nodded now and extended his hand in the man's direction.

Bokuto seemed to understand. He slowly placed his hand in Akaashi's, only to see him close his eyes and press his open palm to his own cheek. The angel winced, hit by a new wave of sobs as he slid Bokuto's hand from his face to the back of his head, leaning into his gentle touch.

Bokuto didn't need more encouragement. He pulled himself close and surrounded Akaashi head with his arm, pressing his cheek to the top of his head in the embrace, allowing the angel to grab his back and pull himself close. Only then did Akaashi open his mouth, releasing the shameful sounds of his weakness into the night. Bokuto followed suit in quiet sobs of the shared pain, which tore at him from the inside ever since he had entered the room.

Only with the angel in his arms could Bokuto feel how much Akaashi's body trembled as he cried, how much it shook as he struggled to catch his breath through the tears. Bokuto wished he could remain calm and simply console him, hold him close and tell him that it would be alright. Instead he only wept along with him, lightly rocking him back and forth in a futile attempt to bring peace to the both of them.

When Bokuto's strained throat finally allowed him to speak, all he could do was apologize. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He repeated, his voice hushed and weak, his lips pressing into Akaashi's hair.

A longer while had to pass for both of them to calm properly. Bokuto remained with his arm wrapped protectively around Akaashi's head, and the angel refused to let go of the man's back. Only after some time did their grips loosen enough to pull away far enough to see each other's faces. Both of them found themselves thinking that they witnessed particularly sad displays. Ashamed, they slowly averted their eyes.

The first thing Akaashi said when he collected himself was the man's name. "Bokuto-san," he all but whispered, having lost a large portion of his voice a moment earlier. "You needn't apologize. None of this is your fault."

"I know." Bokuto sighed. "But I'm sorry that I can't do anything to help you. I'm sorry that you have to suffer like this."

"I'm sorry, too." Akaashi agreed. "But I'm grateful for everything you did for me already. You've helped me more than you can imagine."

"It's the least I can do." Bokuto shrugged, dejected.

A short silence followed.

"Um, do you think…" Akaashi began, hesitant. "Do you think I could stay here? For a few days at least. Of course, I'll understand if it's too much trouble, I mean I'm coming from nowhere and asking for shelter – it would only be natural for you to refuse."

"You can stay however long you want." Bokuto assured. "I couldn't possibly just kick you out after all you've been through. And if there's anything I can do for you, I would like to help you."

"Thank you." Akaashi closed his eyes. "I really appreciate it."

He suddenly noticed that Bokuto's hand was resting right by his own on the pillow, and took it into his own hand. The next instant, he pressed his lips into the top of his palm modestly, and innocently.

Bokuto almost managed to smile at this and soon lifted their joined hands to his own lips and left a small kiss on the angel's knuckles.

"I believe in you, Akaashi." He spoke confidently for the first time in a long while that night. "You're strong. I'll do my best to help you get through this."

"Thank you." Akaashi spoke breathlessly, feeling his vision cloud again, then quickly blinking the tears away. "I think I needed that."

Bokuto smiled at him gently, holding onto his frail hand with equal care as they sat in the comforting silence for some time.

"Do you think you can go to sleep now?" Bokuto asked finally, feeling like the worst had already passed.

"Yes, I think I'll be fine." Akaashi nodded, wiping the remaining tears from his face with the back of his hand. "Good night, Bokuto-san."

"Good night, Akaashi." Bokuto pronounced softly, ruffling the angel's hair and allowing his fingers to linger for a moment. The angel only closed his eyes peacefully and accepted the tender touch.

They remained that way for a few moments, before Bokuto finally stood up and walked out of the room quietly.

Akaashi silently wished he would have stayed, if only until he fell asleep.

The man's presence seemed to shield him from the darkness gathering in his mind.

If only Bokuto had stayed…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you’re having trouble imagining what Akaashi’s wings (well, his wing. RIP) would look like (and let’s face it, my description isn’t that great), feel free to check out this illustration: http://artjennifer.com/wp-content/uploads/angel-wings-artjennifer.jpg (lovely artwork by artjennifer).
> 
> Honestly, Akaashi would be such a beautiful angel (he’s already a beautiful human), don’t you think? I really love imagining him in this form, even if in this particular scenario I am offering him nothing but suffering. (Sorry, Akaashi.)
> 
> Now for the practical side of things: The following chapters won’t be as long as this one. I wanted to give you guys a thorough introduction, hence the long chapter, but the next ones will be shorter for a variety of reasons – mostly because the shorter the chapter, the less it takes to write it and the higher the chance of frequent updates.
> 
> I can’t yet make any promises regarding how often this fic will update but the next week or so will allow me to estimate what is within my abilities.
> 
> I certainly hope that this debut chapter managed to hook you enough to want to follow the fic and made you curious about the development of the story and the characters’ relationship. ^^
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and if you feel it within your heart, I would very much like to hear your opinions and/or first thoughts on the story. <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy the beginning of the new season of Haikyuu, and have a great weekend, and I hope to see you soon~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have anything clever to say this time around, so
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you can enjoy. <3

When morning came, Bokuto reluctantly crawled off the sofa, yawned and stretched his aching neck and back. The piece of furniture was perfectly suitable for movie nights with friends but sleeping on it could only cause the sleeper pain the next morning. Bokuto concluded that sofas were like alcohol – if you overdid it your body would hurt all over the next day. He was only mildly aware that the comparison made sense only to him.

And since he was on the topic of drinking, he found it most appropriate to remember the events of the previous night. He remembered leaving work, going to karaoke with Kuroo and the others, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and around the point where he was supposed to return home, his memories blurred.

He began wondering why he was even sleeping on the sofa in the first place, before he entered the kitchen. And he began remembering. He saw the empty package of gauze on the counter, the iodine, the towels stained brown with the antiseptic and dried blood and realized that what he had quickly dismissed as a dream the moment he opened his eyes might have been real all along.

Slowly, taking quiet steps down the small corridor he walked over to his bedroom, softly pushing the door open. And there he was. The injured angel, splayed on his bed, his body limp in sleep, his remaining wing folded neatly by his side, his head was turned towards the opposite wall. He had not been a dream after all. He was real – very real – and he was in Bokuto's apartment.

Bokuto closed the door, turned around and strode back into his living room through the kitchen, where he sat back down on the sofa, grabbed his own head and bent over, doing his best to stay calm and think rationally. The memories of the previous night flooded back immediately and he took deep breaths, trying to keep himself from panicking.

He had taken the angel in and had told him that he would do his best to help him, yes, he remembered that much, but only now did he realize that he had absolutely no idea what he would do from this point on. Because what was there to do?

Nurse him back to health (whatever that could entail), that much was obvious. Making sure that the wound remained clean and didn't cause them any issues would be part of it. But what else? And what would they do once Akaashi's back healed? At the moment, that thought seemed so unrealistic that Bokuto didn't even try to ponder it.

Only now did he realize that checking up on the angel once every few hours and making sure that he wasn't in pain was just the tip of the iceberg. Tending to another human being, especially an injured one, could not possibly be that simple. In his mind, he slowly began listing all the other things he would have to do – all the things for which he didn't have the mind the previous night – and he couldn't help releasing an exasperated groan.

"Bokuto-san?" A quiet voice called from the other room. "Are you okay?"

The angel either wasn't asleep or Bokuto had just woken him. He sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, don't worry." The man called back.

"Alright." Akaashi confirmed that he had heard his response.

Somehow Bokuto couldn't help smiling. He found it sweet how Akaashi seemed to care about his well-being despite his condition. He shook his head once more. He had plenty of things to worry about in terms of taking care of the angel, but he realized it would do him no good to simply sit there and steep in the stressful thoughts that seemed to flock to him so easily now. For now, the best thing he could do was taking things as they came without the additional distress which came from overthinking.

He took a deep breath and walked over to his bedroom.

"Morning, Akaashi." He greeted the angel with a light smile as he kneeled by the bed.

"Good morning." The angel turned to face him and rubbed his tired eyes as he spoke.

"Did you sleep well?" Bokuto asked gently, instinctively reaching out and stroking through Akaashi's short, lightly curly hair.

The angel frowned. "Please don't touch me." He pronounced clearly. Bokuto's hand immediately left his head and returned to his own side.

"Oh, I thought-" Bokuto tried to explain his behavior, but quickly shook his head and proceeded to nod in understanding. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again if you don't like it."

"Thank you." Akaashi, sighed and closed his eyes. "And I slept alright. And you?"

"I was fine, too, thanks." Bokuto's gentle, ever so slightly concerned smile returned. "How do you feel now?"

"My back doesn't really hurt that much, but," he winced, lightly shifting on the bed. "I'm a bit sick to my stomach."

"Oh." The man blinked a few times before squaring his shoulders and looking to the floor sadly.

"No, it's not your fault at all." Akaashi insisted, taking a deep breath after finishing the sentence, trying to calm his insides. "This might be a side-effect of my fall yesterday, I'm not sure."

"Oh, right." Bokuto seemed to snap out of his sudden melancholy and returned to the situation at hand. "Is it bad? Do you want to throw up?"

"Yes, a bit." Akaashi admitted with a greater wince.

"Okay. Would you like some medicine? I should have something that will help you." Bokuto suggested with genuine worry.

"Will it be the painkiller again? That worked quite well." Akaashi noticed, hope lighting up his eyes as he forced them open.

"No, but I think what I have will be more appropriate for this sort of pain. I'll go get it, okay?" Bokuto stood up and paused, as though he was waiting for the angel's permission. He glanced at the glass on the bedside table. "Drink the water in the meantime, alright? All of it. That should help."

Akaashi nodded weakly and reached for the glass, his features shifting in pain as he sat up on the bed to drink. Bokuto only nodded and headed to the kitchen, from which he soon brought back another glass of water and a small bottle made of brown glass. Setting both objects on the table he opened the small bottle and tipped it over the water, the falling drops coloring it a dirty sort of yellow. He swirled the water in the glass with a few flicks of the wrist, leaving it lightly yellow.

"Here." He offered Akaashi the glass, taking the other empty one out of his hand. "Drink it all in one go."

"What is it?" the angel sniffed the liquid over the edge of the glass and wrinkled his nose in dissatisfaction.

"A mix of diluted alcohol and herbs." Bokuto shrugged, as though that should have been obvious. "It's a family recipe, apparently. It's always helped me whenever I felt sick so I'm hoping it'll make you feel better too."

"Alright." Akaashi nodded, eyeing the glass cautiously. "I trust you."

He proceeded to shutting his eyes tightly and downing the glass in one long gulp. He couldn't help coughing a little once the drink was gone because his throat now burned and he could feel his eyes beginning to water from the intensity of the flavor. He groaned for a moment, before finally speaking properly. "This is absolutely vile." He cringed as he spoke now.

"Ah, yeah. Probably should have mentioned that." Bokuto now released a nervous chuckle, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "But give it a moment. It tastes terrible but it works. Guess that's the price for getting rid of a stomachache."

"Fine." Akaashi sighed and laid back on the bed. "I'm still not feeling the difference but thank you anyway."

"You're always welcome, Akaashi." Bokuto grinned, rather proud of his own aid so far. With a chuckle, he soon added: "I'm still not quite used to the name, but I quite like it, you know? It suits you, somehow."

"Thank you." Akaashi nodded modestly. He liked the way the man pronounced his name and the way it made that unusual, hot bottle-like warmth spread in his chest. There was something pleasant about it that he couldn't quite pin-point. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, focusing on the warmth rather than his turning stomach.

It was at this point where Bokuto's stomach reminded both of them of its presence with a loud growl. The man laughed and shook his head. "I'm pretty hungry so I'll go make breakfast, if you don't mind. I'll make you something too, alright?"

"I don't really feel up to eating anything at the moment." Akaashi reminded him.

"Fair point." Bokuto agreed with a shrug. "Remember: call me if you feel worse, okay? I'm just across the corridor from you."

"I will." Akaashi closed his eyes and turned his face away from the man and towards the wall. "Enjoy your breakfast, Bokuto-san."

"I will." Bokuto replied with a light smile.

* * *

 

Bokuto ended up rushing the meal after all. He couldn't just calmly sit there and take his time eating, knowing that Akaashi was there and might need his help soon. He also felt it just wouldn't be right – feasting while the angel was fighting off pain and nausea. He ended up making a small dish for when Akaashi felt better. He could always reheat it if the angel wouldn't immediately feel hungry. Bokuto would make sure that he ate at least once a day. He understood that injuries took away any and all appetite from people but fasting now would only make recovery more difficult and would cause even more issues in the future.

Once he had finished his breakfast, Bokuto realized that Akaashi had remained silent for the entire time of the meal. He partly hoped that the angel had fallen asleep again – wounds were much easier to deal with when one was unconscious.

He quietly entered his bedroom and tiptoed to the bed to check on the angel.

"Bokuto-san," he raised his head lazily. "I'm awake; you don't need to sneak around like that."

"Oh, alright." He released a stunted syllable of embarrassed laughter before settling by the bed once more. "Feeling any better?"

"Oddly enough, yes." Akaashi blinked a few times, as though he was still surprised by the fact.

"Ah, that's a relief." Bokuto sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "My mom always used to say that the worse it tastes, the better it works."

"Your mom must have been a great cook, in that case." The angel offered, deadpan. Bokuto couldn't help bursting out laughing, to which Akaashi could only respond with brows knitted in confusion.

"I can't believe you just made a 'yo mama' joke." The man whooped. "That's so rude, but also really funny so I won't be upset."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like _that_." Akaashi suddenly realized what might have been considered rude in his speech (despite frankly not knowing what a 'yo mama' joke was). "I'm sorry if it sounded that way."

"Nah, it's fine." Bokuto waved his hand in disregard. "I laughed so it's all good."

Akaashi only nodded in understanding. After a moment of thought, he asked: "Are you some sort of a physician?"

"Physician?" Bokuto almost started laughing again. "No, not at all. I'd never do medicine even if I could. Why do you think I'd be a physician?"

"You seem to own and have a large knowledge of drugs so I figured…" Akaashi suddenly felt silly for making the assumption. "Never mind, my mistake."

"Oh, I guess _you could_ be surprised by that." Bokuto straightened his back as he gave it more thought. "But these days everyone has ready access to medicine. There are pharmacies every few kilometers and if you feel bad in any way, that's where you can buy stuff that can help you."

"Do they also sell things that could help with… this?" The angel motioned his head backwards and Bokuto knew exactly what he meant. He bit his lip.

"I'm afraid that I'm already giving you all pharmacies can offer for such things." He cast his gaze to the floor. "You usually wouldn't stay at home with such serious injuries."

"I see." Akaashi sighed and closed his eyes, another flicker of hope dying somewhere inside him.

Silence spilled around them the way it had the previous night, except that now Bokuto was sober and every second seemed to last far longer than before, dividing them, holding them at a distance. The man could hardly remember that just a few minutes ago he was laughing. Nothing could really dispel the gloom of the situation. He sighed.

"I think we should change the dressing." Bokuto suggested quietly. "Check if everything's alright, you know."

Akaashi's head immediately shot up, his eyes wide in fear. "Change? Will… Will it be like yesterday?" he hesitated in the question, as though he didn't want to risk hearing the answer he dreaded most.

"No." Bokuto assured, shaking his head. "I'll just take off the current gauze and replace it with a fresh piece. No more disinfecting unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Thank God." Akaashi relaxed back onto the bed.

Bokuto stood up and stilled, watching the bandage in silence for a few moments. His eyes all but drilling through the fabric, he couldn't quite forget the events of the previous night.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, detached. "I've really hurt you, haven't I?"

"You hadn't hurt me, Bokuto-san." Akaashi spoke with resolve. "You're doing your best to help me after someone else had hurt me."

"What sort of help is it if I only hurt you more?" Bokuto all but whispered, as though he was talking to himself.

"Cleaning a wound is help whether I like it or not." Akaashi raised his voice slightly and craned his neck to look directly at the man standing behind him. "Yes, it hurt. Of course it hurt. But it would only get worse without your intervention. Don't blame yourself. You're the least guilty person in this entire situation."

Bokuto realized that he was being comforted by an angel who had just the other day lost a limb, by an angel who would never fly, and yet it was _himself_ who was most upset? It was beyond pathetic. The man felt as though he could burst out laughing and crying at the same time. It just so happened that his failed attempts at being strong were both hilarious and hopeless.

"Bokuto-san, please." Akaashi insisted as Bokuto remained unmoving, all except his head which he shook lightly. "I can't do this on my own. I need your help. I know that this isn't easy for your either but you're the only person I have right now."

Bokuto finally snapped out of it. "I'm sorry, it's really not the time to be sulking." He smiled sadly. "I'm still decided on doing my best to help you. I'm not abandoning you now."

"Thank you." Akaashi only sighed in relief.

Bokuto helped the angel sit up once more and carefully untied the bandages.

"It looks good." He commented, looking at the wound. "You bled a little at night but it's all clean otherwise. That's a good sign."

"Great." Akaashi nodded, and he meant it.

"Let's wrap you up, then." Bokuto all but hummed and the angel could hear the smile in his words and it made him feel slightly better. He was coming to the conclusion that Bokuto was quite a pleasant person to be around when he was happy. He appreciated his positivity more than he expected himself to.

"You seem to know what you're doing." Akaashi noticed as the man brought the fresh bandage around his chest. "Why aren't you a physician then?"

"I'm really just improvising here and drawing on what I've heard and seen in movies." Bokuto chuckled. "I don't think I know what I'm doing at all."

"Maybe all it would take is practice and study?" Akaashi suggested.

"Maybe." Bokuto agreed. "But I'm not, you know, book-smart. I'm pretty bad at studying, actually. And you need to do a shit-ton of that if you want to be a doctor. My friend did that and he barely survived, and he loved the subject. And I'm not even interested. I'm pretty sure it'd kill me."

"You make a fair point." Akaashi admitted. "You're definitely more of an asset alive, even if you're not an expert in the field."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Bokuto tied the last knot and entered the angel's field of view so that he could see his large grin and Akaashi immediately knew that he could relax. The man didn't smile unless everything was fine. It was a sign that he could now rest assured.

"But tell me, Akaashi, and be honest," Bokuto began, sitting down on the floor by the bed once more. "Doesn't it hurt? I'd imagine it hurts a lot."

Akaashi sighed. "It does hurt. Especially now that the stomachache is gone." He admitted, looking off to the side, not wanting to see the sadness that would surely appear on Bokuto's face. "But it's not as bad as last night. You… You get used to it. The pain is just kind of always there and you just grit your teeth and bear it."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Bokuto asked and the concern was clearly audible in his voice. "I would have given you another painkiller."

"I don't want to use up your supply." Akaashi shrugged, casting his eyes to the ground. "The pills are quite potent. They must be expensive. And I'm not really dying from the pain at the moment so I just thought we could save them for emergencies."

"No, they're not expensive at all." Bokuto jumped to explain. "I can give you one every six hours since that's the recommended dosage, but other than that there's no reason to hold back."

"I'm already a liability." The angel shrugged, and his remaining wing lightly twitched in sync with his shoulders. "I just don't think there's any need for you to spend more money on me than necessary."

"I think easing your suffering is a necessity." Bokuto replied firmly and stood up. "I'll bring you a pill."

Akaashi sighed, then added in a whisper: "Thank you."

Bokuto was back in an instant with another glass of water, and the painkiller in hand. Once the angel swallowed the pill and Bokuto sat by the bed, the man couldn't help putting his worry into words:

"I told you to tell me if anything was wrong." He didn't mean to make it sound like an accusation, but how could he ever help Akaashi if he didn't speak to him of his problems?

"Right now there is not a single thing that _isn't_ wrong." Akaashi pronounced with clenched teeth, his voice shaky. He took a deep breath. "If I were to tell you about everything then you'd never leave this room."

"That's fine by me." Bokuto shrugged. "Honestly, if you feel any sort of discomfort then don't hesitate to tell me. Or if you're just sad. It helps if you share those things."

"Bokuto-san, sad doesn't even begin to describe how I feel." Akaashi shut his eyes tightly and forced himself to inhale and exhale slowly. He didn't want to cry first thing in the morning. His tears wouldn't change anything anyway. He wished they wouldn't push at his eyelids so often. "But okay. I'll try to talk about it. Just not right now."

Bokuto nodded because this much was progress. He didn't want to squeeze confessions out of Akaashi either, so it was only appropriate to at least give him time.

"Is there anything I can do for you right now?" Bokuto asked, his voice soft and kind and Akaashi thought that he probably didn't deserve so much care but God, did he appreciate it.

"Maybe… breakfast?" Akaashi suggested, uncertain. "Something small and simple. I'm hungry, but my nausea was rather bad and I wouldn't want it to come back."

"Okay." Bokuto grinned. "I've got just the thing for you."

But before the man could rush off to the kitchen again, Akaashi managed to reach out and gently grab his fingers. He held his hand and gazed into his eyes for a few seconds only, but he hoped that Bokuto understood what he meant. He was grateful. He only didn't know how to tell him because words felt so insignificant. Bokuto nodded with a light smile before letting go and disappearing behind the door. Akaashi hoped he got his feelings across properly.

The man returned sooner than Akaashi had predicted, carrying a steaming bowl of yellow rice and a pair of chopsticks.

"One tamago kake gohan for Akaashi's special order, here." He spoke with cheer as he placed the bowl on the bedside table.

"Rice mixed with raw egg?" the angel repeated, looking at the bowl.

"I hope it's alright?" Bokuto became flustered for a moment. "I thought it'd be appropriate."

Akaashi only shrugged, since he frankly didn't know. He didn't remember if he had ever eaten that dish – he didn't remember anything he'd eaten. "Thank you." He repeated with a light bow of the head, because even if he didn't know whether he'd like it, his stomach was empty and the rice smelled particularly inviting.

The angel managed to sit up on his own and picked up the chopsticks, taking one in each hand. He tried to stab the rice from two sides and somehow bring it to his mouth, but the grains kept falling off.

Bokuto released a muffled snort and when Akaashi looked to him, he was covering his mouth with his hand and his face was red and he was certain that he was trying not to laugh.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Bokuto repeated, turning his head away from Akaashi and actually chortling now. "I really shouldn't laugh. This is so wrong. But your struggle is sort of cute."

The angel turned his gaze back to the bowl. "I just need to remember how to do it. It can't be that hard."

"You know you're supposed to hold them in one hand, right?" Bokuto suggested, while trying really hard to wipe that stupid smile off his face because that really wasn't fair to Akaashi even if it was funny.

"Oh, right." The angel transferred the chopsticks to one hand, but it doesn't seem to help him much.

"You know what," Bokuto finally sighed, not laughing anymore. "Let's leave the chopstick lessons for later. I'll bring you a spoon."

"…I'd appreciate that." Akaashi nodded because the thin pieces of wood that were meant to be kitchen utensils were really irritating his tired mind by now.

Things went much better with the spoon, and the angel managed to eat half the bowl and even thanked for the meal, saying that it was very good. Bokuto wondered whether he was just being polite, but he found his words pleasant regardless.

"We can reheat the rest for dinner." The man announced and headed back to the kitchen. Akaashi closed his eyes, contemplating whether he was in the mood for a nap. Now that he was full and the pain in his back had lessened, he could relax far better than before.

Bokuto came back to the room when the angel was just beginning to float into a light sleep and he was suddenly thrown awake by something freezing placed on his back. He moaned in surprise.

"Sorry." Bokuto was quick to follow up with a nervous smile. "I just remembered that I made some ice yesterday and I thought it could dull the pain a bit."

And it did, Akaashi noticed in surprise, because his back now only felt cold and hardly hurt.

"Thank you." He pronounced quietly since he found it much easier to deal with cold than with pain. Bokuto only smiled in response.

"You know, I was wondering," Bokuto began with interest. "And you don't need to tell me if you don't want to – but I was curious if you're more resistant to the cold since the sky is really freezing." He considered whether he should add the part about Akaashi flying half-naked since he found him shirtless, but he didn't want to bring back too many bad memories.

The question took him off guard but Akaashi didn't mind replying. "I can feel the cold. But I don't think it affects me the way it does humans. I can ignore it and it doesn't really hurt me. Which makes sense because – like you said – the sky is really freezing."

"That's so cool." Bokuto grinned. Remembering flying only made Akaashi feel worse, but there was something about the man's smile that suppressed his grief by the tiniest bit. It almost cheered him up.

"I suppose it might be." He sighed noncommittally. And the angel felt like he really shouldn't, especially after what he said earlier that morning, but Bokuto's hand lay so close that he couldn't help reaching for it. It was warm and smooth to the touch. He pressed it to his own cheek.

"I really hope you don't mind this." Akaashi spoke quietly, all but embarrassed. "I know I shouldn't demand so much of you."

The angel felt bad about desiring so much physical reassurance. He knew he shouldn't be invading on Bokuto's personal space, that he shouldn't force him to touch him if Bokuto himself didn't want to, but he hoped that his tragic state would be enough of a justification for his odd behavior. He wouldn't do this if it weren't for his condition anyway. He hoped that was enough of a reason.

"I don't mind at all." Bokuto answered softly, the smile clear in his voice, as he stroked Akaashi's cheek with his thumb. "If this makes you feel better then I'll do it for hours at a time."

"Thank you." The angel whispered, a shadow of a smile on his lips. Both of them found it amazing how something so small could make him so happy.

After a few minutes of silence interrupted by nothing but their calm breaths, Bokuto was the first one to speak. "Your recovery is going really well." He noticed with a smile, and it really was. Akaashi was eating and drinking, his wound looked fine and didn't cause them much trouble and it seemed like the angel wasn't experiencing much pain. "At this rate, maybe your wing will grow back?"

Bokuto couldn't have predicted what consequences his idle comment would have.

But when Akaashi tore his hand from his cheek, pushed it away and opened his mouth, he understood that he had crossed the line.

Bokuto couldn't have known that with one playful remark he would open the floodgates on the rage pent up in the angel.

He couldn't have known how difficult it would be to soothe anger produced by true grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it seems that updating weekly is within possibility, although I can't promise anything because that puts me under pressure and stress makes writing difficult. :')
> 
> What do you think of the story so far? Your feedback really means everything to me and if you have any - even the tiniest - thoughts on this fic, I would love to hear them!
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope to see you in the next chapter. ^^ I wish you all a great week~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me longer than intended but it's finally here, so thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

" _Maybe my wings will grow back?_ " Akaashi repeated, sitting up despite the pain, shaking his head in disbelief at the extent of the idiocy in the question, his voice rising to a low, clear yell as he emphasized his speech. "Do _arms_ grow back? Do _legs_ grow back?"

Bokuto only held his mouth open in silence as he realized the mistake he had made.

" _Tell me_ , Bokuto-san." The angel encouraged with a desperate, furious smile. "Maybe I'm missing something really big here. Maybe I don't have to spend every waking minute agonizing over my loss?"

His words were like needles, each piercing Bokuto's chest harder, deeper. "They don't." he only whispered in response, his eyes cast down to the floor.

"Yes, exactly." Akaashi agreed, his voice loud though lightly shaken. "They don't. But you know, you humans have it great. If you lose a leg, you can always get an artificial replacement. And even if you don't – you can keep living your life without that big of a change. Even without a leg, you're _fine_." He stressed through clenched teeth. "But me? You don't have prosthetics for wings. They don't exist. Once you've become like me? You cease to matter. It's like being dead, but without the peace that comes with death. I'll never _fly_ again. I've been forever locked out of the skies. I'm not coming back. Not ever."

The angel practically growled through his rage, spitting as much of the anger as many words he could string together into painful sentences. Only when he paused and Bokuto glanced up at him, did he notice the streaks of tears staining his cheeks. Akaashi sounded like he didn't register that he was crying. His fury drove his voice forward without letting it break or collapse or release any sobs. The indignation which followed him from the moment he had learned of his wound had finally found an outlet, blocking out the angel's reason.

"And see, I know it was just a joke and I know that you're just trying to comfort me, but for God's sake if this is how you're going to do it then stop. Because making light of the situation doesn't make it any easier for me. Because I am not ready to just nod and laugh about this. Because I have just been cast out of my previous life – whatever it was – and confined to the ground and life with humans and one useless Goddamn wing, and I don't even know _why_."

As he spoke, he opened his remaining wing and purposefully swung it at the wall with the little power he had. There was a thud and a few feathers tumbled from the wing, softly, silently, but nothing else happened. Akaashi fell back onto the pillow and shut his eyes and gnashed his teeth and tears escaped from under his eyelids as he released one long groan which quickly turned into a sob. More followed, but were quickly swallowed by the pillow when the angel pressed his face to it, so that it muffled his voice, so that it hid his pain. It didn't stop his body from shaking in time with the pathetic cries escaping his mouth.

And Bokuto could only watch. This time he had no right to as much as speak, much less reach out to him, he was certain of that much. He sat there, swallowing back his own tears, trying to understand just what he should do.

He finally spoke a few minutes later, once Akaashi's voice seemed to die down. "I'm sorry. That was a really stupid thing to say. I'm really sorry."

"Just leave me alone." The angel pronounced quietly, his body still quivering as he attempted to speak.

Bokuto walked over to the door. "I'm in the kitchen. Call me if you need me."

And as simply as that

he had left him alone.

Akaashi heard his footsteps as the man shuffled to the other room, the sound of a chair's legs briefly dragged across the floor, the sound of something being placed on a table, and then silence.

Pure, empty, blissful silence.

Except that it was hardly blissful at all.

Akaashi was alone now, just as he had requested.

But being alone didn't ease the ache in his chest, the pain in his back, the turmoil in his mind.

Silence didn't return him his wings.

All it did was remind him how completely helpless he was.

It allowed him to dwell on how furious he was at Bokuto, at his lack of understanding, at how someone so kind could be so _insensitive._

But what could Bokuto know? He was a human, he couldn't even begin to understand Akaashi's loss.

Perhaps this was what hurt the most.

That the only person that Akaashi had trusted – the one that seemed so perfect – wouldn't understand his struggle. That he would walk around grinning, as though everything was alright. That he was acting so casually in the face of such a dire situation.

But Akaashi wouldn't even be having these issues if it weren't for this situation.

And all of this…

 _Was not_ Bokuto's fault.

Akaashi realized that better than anyone else. But it would be so much _easier_ if he could simply blame it all on the man. He was _right there._ Pouring the entirety of Akaashi's rage onto him would solve _so_ much _so_ quickly.

And yet it wouldn't. Because he was not responsible for all that had happened to Akaashi. Not to mention that he _did_ help him. Punishing him now would be nothing but ungrateful and cruel.

And yet it was so hard to keep it all in. Because Akaashi had not the slightest idea _who_ or _what_ was to blame. He was aware that there was _something_ out there that had hurt him, yet nothing specific. He couldn't imagine any way of releasing his feelings at something faceless and nameless. The rage remained unchanneled, only pooling in his body, waiting to spill at anyone who came too close.

It was pathetic, Akaashi knew that much.

But he also knew that he was nothing if not pathetic at the moment, that he would probably never be nothing more than that.

He curled his hand into a fist and swung it at the mattress. It simply bounced back, leaving behind no pain, but no satisfaction either.

He buried his face in the pillow, feeling another wave of anger transform into bitter, humiliating tears.

Relief only came when his tired mind finally allowed him to cry himself to sleep.

* * *

 

When Akaashi woke up, he was alone, the way Bokuto had left him.

He dreaded the silence.

He was sick of loneliness, tired of handling it all on his own.

"Bokuto-san!" he called, perhaps too desperately. He didn't want to be alone. Not anymore.

Bokuto was in the room within a few seconds. His breath was heavy and his voice seemed to tremble as he spoke quickly. "What's wrong? Does it hurt? Akaashi, are you okay?"

Akaashi exhaled in relief. Bokuto was there. He hadn't left. He was still worried about him. Everything was the way it had been.

Akaashi only shook his head. "Bokuto-san, can you come closer?" Twisting his head back to face the doorway in which the man stood would be difficult.

"Yeah." Bokuto agreed, walking close and kneeling by the bed. When Akaashi turned to look at him, his gaze only dug into the mattress, not daring to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Bokuto-san." And in an instant, Bokuto's eyes were on him, wide and disbelieving. "I shouldn't have yelled so much. I apologize for getting so upset. I'm not mad at you. I'm just in a very… difficult position right now. I know it's not your fault. I don't blame you."

"No, no, don't apologize!" Bokuto was quick to shake his head. "It _was_ my fault. The joke at least. It was really dumb of me, and I'm the one who's sorry about it. You had every right to be mad. I'd probably be furious, too. I just thought…"

Bokuto paused and only now did Akaashi notice how dull his eyes seemed to be, how his usual expressiveness seemed to be gone, and how his voice lacked power. He struggled to comprehend the reason for this.

"I wasn't thinking." Bokuto finally finished the thought. "That's the only rational explanation. I wasn't thinking about how it would make you feel. So I sincerely apologize. You really don't need me to make you feel worse."

"It's alright. I'm fine now." Akaashi assured. He was far from fine, but the nap had calmed him. A moment of peace was as much help as he could hope for.

"I'm glad to hear it." Bokuto smiled lightly. There was something unnatural about it, something fake, although Akaashi couldn't quite pin-point it. "But tell me, are you in pain? I can give you another pill now if you want?"

As he spoke, Bokuto placed his hand on the mattress and only then could Akaashi observe what was truly wrong.

"Your hands are shaking." He pronounced aloud, watching the man's entire palms twitch and shudder despite remaining in one place.

Bokuto immediately pulled his hands behind his back, clearly ashamed, hiding them from the angel's sight. "Don't worry about them. I took my medicine so they should stop soon."

"Medicine? Are you also in pain?" Akaashi tilted his head in confusion. He most certainly wouldn't want to use up Bokuto's supply if the man needed it more.

"No, no. It's… It's a different sort of medicine. Not for pain." Bokuto shook his head, perhaps too vigorously, keen to explain the situation as best as possible. "It's for… for something else. I don't really want to talk about it now."

"Okay." Akaashi agreed because he had many things which he didn't want to talk about either and he could understand the sentiment well.

"But tell me, does it hurt?" Bokuto insisted and Akaashi simply shook his head. Of course it hurt, it hurt all the time, sometimes more, sometimes less, but pain seemed to had become the single constant in Akaashi's life. He was tired of sobbing over it. It never solved anything. He would appreciate a pain-killer, but something else clouded his mind at the moment.

He lifted his hand and slowly extended it palm-up in Bokuto's direction.

"I'll go get it then." Bokuto was about to stand up, but Akaashi stopped him before he could.

"No." The angel shook his head. "Can I hold your hand? Until it stops shaking."

"You don't have to do that." Bokuto opened his mouth in surprise. "I'm fine, really."

Akaashi knew the meaning of _fine_ all too well. "I want to. Can I?"

"Yeah." Bokuto spoke on an exhale, his lips twisting and Akaashi would have to describe it as something very close to the man's usual smile. Hesitant and uncertain, but relieved, perfectly reflecting Bokuto's emotions. He hoped he could see Bokuto's proper smile again soon.

Softly, the man placed his hand in Akaashi's and they rested their joined palms on the mattress by the angel's head. Akaashi soon closed his eyes, becoming unable to witness that Bokuto had done the same. They remained with their eyes closed, their hands connected in the comforting silence broken only by their deep breaths. Eventually, the tremors in Bokuto's palm lessened, then ceased entirely, but Akaashi was reluctant to let go. With his continuous grip, it seemed that Bokuto felt similarly.

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi finally whispered. "Could you tell me more about yourself?"

It took Bokuto a moment to realize that the phrase was a question, but once it clicked, the angel could hear a light smile in his voice. "Sure."

"My name's Bokuto Koutarou and I'm 24 years old. I suppose you knew that much?" The man chuckled and it had to be one of the most reassuring sounds Akaashi had heard to date. It marked the return of cheerful Bokuto, the exact person Akaashi needed. Somehow his happiness was a pleasant distraction from all the pain and suffering. This was especially true now that Bokuto began stroking down his knuckles with his thumb as he spoke. "I'm not quite sure what else to say. I studied zoology in university. I work as a manager in a café chain. I like to draw a bit. I'm not _that_ interesting, to be honest."

"You like partridges." Akaashi added and felt his chest grow with that pleasant warmth when Bokuto grinned at him in excitement.

"I like partridges." He agreed, happy that the angel remembered such minor details. "I really like owls."

"Any particular reason for that?" Akaashi wondered.

"They're really pretty. And like, really fluffy." Bokuto chuckled, absentmindedly looking at the wall behind Akaashi. "But they also look impressive and just looking at them makes you want to respect them. But then they also do a lot of silly things or can get grumpy and it's just amusing to discover their personalities. They're sort of like cats with feathers."

"I suppose you also like cats then?" Akaashi hummed.

"Not as much as owls." Bokuto grinned and Akaashi found himself thinking that there was something incredibly sweet about the man and how excitable he was when it came to animals.

"You said you studied zoology? What does that mean?" The angel encouraged, finding himself unexpectedly interested in the man and his life.

"Oh, zoology is a study of animals. Like, you know, their physiology, behaviors, evolution and a bunch of other things." Bokuto explained briefly. "Honestly, it's less fun than it sounds. I barely managed to get my degree."

A nervous smile graced his lips and Akaashi tilted his head: "Why did you decide to study something you weren't good at?"

Bokuto winced at the all-too-blunt question.

"I wasn't actually planning to go to university, but then I got a sports scholarship and things just sort of… happened." Bokuto shrugged, swallowing harder, his eyes running over the wall to his side. Akaashi understood that he wasn't particularly comfortable with the topic.

"If I'm not mistaken you go to university to prepare for performing a certain profession, right?" The angel took the conversation in a different direction. "But you said you work in a café?"

"Oh, yeah." Bokuto chuckled good-naturedly and Akaashi knew that the temporary melancholy was gone. "There aren't very many jobs out there for zoologists unless they're doing research or working in a zoo. I'm terrible at research and no zoo seemed to want me so I just work where someone was willing to hire me. The pay is good too, so I don't really mind."

"But… you don't get to work with animals. Isn't that a pity?" Akaashi wondered, considering the man's clear love for living creatures.

"I get by." Bokuto shrugged. "I worked part-time in an owl café while in university. That was really fun. I guess you don't know what an owl café is?"

Akaashi shook his head.

"It's a café where you pay to pet and feed owls. They're all domesticated so they're not dangerous. And you know how I said they're really fluffy? People love that. I mean, it's all quite a bit of work for the employees, but there's nothing better than knowing that at the end of the day both your owls and your customers are happy. I liked that place." Bokuto smiled while speaking and the angel could tell by the tone of his voice that the story was a nostalgic one.

"Is that why you love owls so much?" Akaashi blinked, feeling he understood.

"Yeah, it's probably a big factor." Bokuto chuckled. "I had to quit in the end because I had too much workload from my studies and it wasn't even that well-paid of a job. But yeah, I had a good time."

"But now your life is owl-less." The angel sighed.

"Not really." Bokuto hummed. "I help out at a local wildlife rescue center whenever I can and we get quite a few birds who lost the ability to…"

He didn't finish the sentence, realizing the line he was treading, taking into account the possibility that he might have accidentally crossed it.

The room fell silent.

Neither of them spoke for a few painfully long seconds.

Bokuto was no longer smiling.

"Am I just another one of the injured birds that fall under your care?" Akaashi asked quietly, yet his voice felt like thunder in the small room, tearing their peace to shreds, opening not yet healed burns.

"Akaashi, it's not like that." Bokuto was quick to follow up, hoping to calm the situation as soon as possible, but the angel had already let go of his hand. He was no longer looking at him. This could only mean the beginning of what he dreaded most.

"But isn't it?" Akaashi exhaled, his voice growing tired as though speaking was hurting him, but he couldn't keep it all inside. "I'm just a poor little bird in need of your help. Except that I'm not. That's the issue."

"Akaashi, please." Bokuto insisted, forcing his voice not to tremble. "You know that's not true. I just want to-"

"I know." Akaashi cut him off, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I know you have good intentions. I know I'm being unfair to you. I… I appreciate everything you're doing for me. But I just can't be sensible right now. Not when I'm _like this._ "

"I understand. I'm sorry." Bokuto hung his head. There wasn't much more he could do.

"I just need time. Please just try to understand that I can't function properly just yet." He pressed his face into the pillow, but spoke on regardless. "Some things just make me so immensely _upset._ I know you're not at fault but I can't help it."

"Okay." Bokuto sighed and stood up. "Do you want to be alone for a bit? I'll just be in the other room."

"No. Stay, please." Akaashi all but sat up, looking at Bokuto in a desperate gaze. "Please don't go."

"Okay." Bokuto nodded, attempting a reassuring smile which only ended up looking sad. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to."

"Thank you." The angel exhaled in relief and laid himself back onto the pillow. "Can I have one more request?"

"Yeah, sure." Bokuto sat himself down by the bed once more.

"Could we… not talk for some time? I'm not really in the mood." He no longer felt like making conversation. It brought his mind unpleasant thoughts which he would rather avoid. "But I don't want you to go, either. Let's just… be quiet for a bit."

"Okay." Bokuto chuckled now, and as inappropriate as it felt, there was something relaxing about it. "Would you mind if a brought a chair and my laptop here though? Just to have something to do."

"What's a laptop?" Akaashi tilted his head.

"Right, you wouldn't know." The man blinked in realization. "It's a device that makes your life easier, I guess. It can also be a source of entertainment or a way to do work, and such. If you let me go get it then I can show you?"

"I'm not that interested." Akaashi shrugged. "But yes, if you'll come back then you can go get it."

"Okay." Bokuto smiled. "Give me a moment then."

And just before he could stand up and walk away from the bed, Akaashi reached out, his fingers gently grazing over the back of Bokuto's hand. Glancing at him was enough to notice the trust in his eyes, the dread in his features, the pain in his body. He was nothing like the birds Bokuto had helped in the past. He was human after all – wings or no wings. The plan was simple - Bokuto would do anything to offer him the treatment he deserved.

"I'll be right back, okay?" The man stroked down Akaashi's hand in hopes of reassuring him. The angel only nodded and closed his eyes as Bokuto left the room. Somehow being alone weighed on him more than it should have. He took deep breaths until he could hear the man's slow footsteps return to the room. Opening his eyes, he saw a chair in one of his hands and a thin, silver box that looked somewhat like a metal-clad folder, which he concluded must have been the 'laptop'.

Bokuto placed the chair right beside the bed, leaving just enough space for his legs to fit between him and the bed. He (correctly) assumed that Akaashi would want him to stay close, for which the angel was silently grateful. He watched as the man sat down, placed the device on his lap (which, now that Akaashi thought about it, explained the name) and opened it so that the two rectangular sides were horizontal and perpendicular to one another. He soon heard plastic clicking and soft tapping – typing. There was something relaxing about the sounds (or perhaps simply about Bokuto's presence itself?) and he soon found himself closing his eyes and falling into a light slumber.

Bokuto, on the other hand, was only getting started. He realized that if he wanted to help Akaashi he would have to learn more about him and his kind. The one obvious issue was that angels were mythical creatures and there would be no scientific or medical information on them, but Bokuto would manage. Even the biblical explanations could be of use, and Bokuto would browse page after page and do his best to understand the creature he had taken in and vowed to help.

But before he could delve into the topic too deeply, he decided to open a new tab and Google something else, something he had heard of some time ago. _Five stages of grief_. His eyes immediately focused on _Number 2: Anger_. He exhaled in relief. He knew that Akaashi wasn't actually angry at him yet he needed a confirmation that his behavior wasn't making things worse. Reading from a reliable source that irrational anger was part of the healing process cleared his doubts. Though he felt like he should have known as much – it was to be expected. He would have to make sure not to take anything the angel said personally, since he didn't _mean_ any of it. Bokuto would have to make a mantra out of repeating that. The previous instance of anger had shaken him too much, he was hyper aware of that. He realized that he couldn't show the angel his weakness, he couldn't _allow himself any weakness_ in the first place if he were going to help him. Bokuto knew his own issues were far from resolved, but they would have to take the back seat in the face of a much larger crisis.

Reassured, he continued his search for the elusive truth on angels.

* * *

 

Some time passed before Bokuto broke the silence, thus waking Akaashi. "You know what prosthetics are, right?"

"Sorry?" Akaashi replied sleepily, not quite hearing the question.

"You mentioned prosthetics earlier today. So, you know what they are." Bokuto explained, his fingers stroking the touchpad of the laptop as he scrolled down a webpage.

"Yes?" The angel wasn't sure what Bokuto was expecting of him. "They're artificial limbs made out of synthetic material. People don't have the control over them the way they do over normal limbs and they can't feel anything, but they're decent replacements. They're usually better for legs than for arms due to the simpler intended functions."

Bokuto's brows hiked up his forehead. "Okay, you know a _lot_ about prosthetics."

"Not that much, not really." Akaashi shrugged.

"But you don't know what a laptop is or how it's used." The man countered, watching him carefully.

"I would guess that's a laptop." The angel tilted his head upwards, pointing at the device sitting atop Bokuto's legs.

"You would guess correctly." Bokuto nodded with a smile.

"Bokuto-san, where are we going with this?" Akaashi sighed, already tired of the flow of the conversation.

"But you also know what a university is, right?" The man continued, ignoring the question.

"Yes. It's an institution of higher education." Akaashi recited patiently.

"You know some things about the human world and are completely clueless about others." Bokuto finally voiced his thoughts. "I wonder if that's a clue to where you came from?"

Akaashi widened his eyes. "You have a point."

"Let's write down all the things you know and don't know in two columns." The man hummed, opening a spreadsheet. "We'll just add to it as we go along."

Akaashi only nodded, acknowledging his words.

"Because I suppose your origins aren't as simple as 'heaven'?" Bokuto tilted his head, half-joking, half-hoping that it really was _that_ simple.

"I'm afraid not." The angel sighed. "But 'heaven' does ring a bell. Could you tell me more about it?"

"Yessir." Bokuto almost saluted in excitement. "I've just found tons of stuff on angels and heaven so I can just relay it all to you."

"You've just found?" Akaashi focused on the least important detail of the sentence. "Did the 'laptop' tell you?"

"Hm, yeah, you could say that." The man chuckled. "It's basically a device that allows me to connect to all of humanity's publicly available knowledge and browse it to my heart's content."

"Sounds a bit like an encyclopedia." The angel noticed.

"Yeah… Yeah, you're right, it does." Bokuto considered the thought and nodded. "Except that it's more convenient than an encyclopedia."

"I'd imagine." Akaashi shrugged. "So does it have a lot on angels? Or heaven?"

"A bit. But only stuff from the bible and other holy texts." Bokuto wrinkled his nose in dissatisfaction. "It seems your kind… stays out of the public eye these days."

"That's better than nothing." The angel admitted. "Can you read it to me? Maybe it'll help me remember."

Thus, Bokuto read to him about angels and how they were messengers of God operating between Heaven and Earth, how they were superior to humans and how they guarded and guided them in times of need. He purposefully skipped the part about fallen angels, and moved on to reading different interpretations of what sort of place Heaven was.

"That's at least what Christianity says." Bokuto summed it up. "I haven't checked the other religions yet and I don't know which one of them is _correct_ , or which one applies to you."

"That's alright." Akaashi sighed. The information hardly reminded him of anything and only made him imagine the sort of life he would have had as a Christian angel. He was envious of it, but it somehow didn't click. He felt like that wasn't it. But he wasn't certain – he could remember nothing and he could have very well completely forgotten what sort of being he was before his tumble from the skies. Perhaps that _was it_. He wouldn't know anyway. "I've heard enough for today."

"Okay. We can try again once I read more about it." Bokuto encouraged with a smile that made it a bit easier for Akaashi to cope with the memories he didn't have.

"What if I'm not an angel from any of the known religions?" Akaashi wondered out loud. "What if I exist independently and have nothing to do with people's beliefs?"

"I don't know." Bokuto simply shrugged. "We'll figure it out as we go. No point in overthinking it now."

"You're right." Akaashi sighed, and pressed his face into the pillow. Shifting his body on the mattress, he released a tired groan.

"You alright?" Bokuto looked at him from above his laptop.

"Yes." The angel replied, unconvincingly, making an attempt at pushing himself up on his arms and sitting up. "But I need to go."

"Where?" Bokuto asked, startled, knitting his brows as Akaashi clumsily supported on his shaking arms.

"Bathroom." He pronounced with a grunt as he finally sat, gripping the edge of the bed tightly.

"Right." Bokuto nodded cautiously, preemptively placing his laptop on the bedside table. "You're dizzy, aren't you?"

"Yes." Akaashi sighed. "But I'll be fine."

"I'll help you." Bokuto offered, standing up.

"I can still do some things on my own, thank you." The angel shook his head, placing his feet on the ground, but remaining seated.

"I'll just take you to the door, okay? And you'll pick it up from there." Bokuto extended his hand and Akaashi felt his weakened resolve melt.

"…Okay." He finally nodded, pulled himself up on the man's hand and allowed him to support his weight as he was lead to the bathroom.

Bokuto waited at the door until the angel opened it and took an uncertain step outside. Akaashi didn't quite have enough strength to walk and his legs quickly collapsed under him, the only thing saving him from hitting the ground being Bokuto's quick wits as he caught him in time.

"I've got you. It's alright." He whispered, bringing the angel back up to his feet, but still holding him close.

Akaashi only brought his arms around the man's back and pressed himself to his chest in a vain attempt to find some semblance of balance. He silently appreciated the way Bokuto finally wrapped his hands around his waist, carefully avoiding his wing, and helped him stand straight, still clumsily hugging him.

"Can we stay like this for a moment?" Akaashi asked, breathless. "Just until everything stops spinning."

"Sure." Bokuto agreed easily.

"Thank you." The angel sighed, making the effort to move his arms to Bokuto's shoulders, bringing them even closer, their heads now on the same level.

"That's alright." He could hear the man's light smile in his words, felt his warm cheek brush against his ear. "I'm not letting you fall anytime soon."

Akaashi felt extremely grateful.

For the first time, what waited for him down below was not the cold, hard ground.

But Bokuto's gentle embrace.

For the first time, Akaashi was not afraid of falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said that I'll manage to update this fic weekly? Yeah, sorry for that.
> 
> A little anime called "Yuri on Ice" suddenly came up and my lack of self-control manifested itself in two fanfics for that fandom and I'm about 90% sure that that won't be the end of it.
> 
> HOWEVER I am still pumped to write this fic and I'm glad we're slowly progressing here and I still love this story and I will continue writing it! The updates might just be bi-weekly instead of weekly.
> 
> So please forgive me for being so shitty when it comes to deadlines. ^^; In the meantime, I would be really glad to hear your thoughts/opinions on the story so far so if there is anything - anything at all - that you think of the story so far, you are more than welcome to leave me a comment. Your feedback is a lot of help when it comes to the creation of the story! <3
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you have a great week and I hope to see you soon~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, I am SO sorry!
> 
> I wanted to update this fic more often but then got completely swept away by the Yuri on Ice fandom, hence this huge delay.
> 
> But worry not, I am not abandoning this fic! Here's to a good 2017 in which I can actually update this regularly. :')
> 
> Hope you'll forgive me that this chapter is unbeta'ed, I'll try to fix the mistakes ASAP but I just want to get this chapter out there. Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy!

Bokuto held Akaashi for a few longer moments before finally feeling his growing weight in his arms and shifting his grip.

He threw the angel's arm over his shoulder and held him by the waist, as though to help him walk.

"Are you alright, Akaashi?" he asked, concerned, seeing his closed eyes and the wince in his features.

"I'm… not sure." The angel breathed heavily in response, unstable on his feet.

"Let's get you back to bed." Bokuto decided quickly, aiding Akaashi in making their way back to his bedroom slowly, step by uncertain step.

Laying on the mattress on his stomach once more, Akaashi pressed his cheek into the pillow and shut his eyes tightly, trying to find some semblance of stability in his current state.

"How do you feel?" Bokuto asked tentatively.

"I'm… dizzy." Akaashi replied without opening his eyes.

"Do you think you have a fever?" Bokuto's voice grew more worried with each word. "Let me see."

Carefully, he brushed the hair away from his forehead and held it back with his hand, lightly tilting Akaashi's head upwards. The angel hardly had the mind to question it, but all of a sudden, he could feel Bokuto pressing their foreheads together, carefully, gently. Akaashi didn't understand the practice, but he didn't hate it, and in fact, found it rather pleasant. Or at least, somewhat comforting in his currently poor condition.

"You're warm." Bokuto finally voiced with concern as he pulled away

"I suppose that's not good?" Akaashi finally cracked his eyes open, hoping that the man's expression would be more telling than his words.

"It's…" Bokuto hung his voice for a moment before sighing and continuing. "It could be a bad sign."

"Can you fix it?" The angel blinked, his gaze trusting and hopeful.

"I hope I can." Bokuto whispered with a slow nod. "Wait here."

Akaashi closed his eyes in agreement and listened as the man stood up and walked out of the room, to the kitchen, he assumed. He thought that the demand was a rather pointless one since he was hardly planning on going anywhere, but the spin in his head and the light burn reappearing on his back made it difficult to make any snide remarks.

Bokuto came back soon and placed something on the bedside table with a small thump. Opening his eyes, Akaashi noticed that it was a glass of water and that Bokuto had extended his hand towards him, holding out something small in his palm. It was a pill.

"Take it." Bokuto asked softly, motioning his chin upwards. "It should lower the fever."

Akaashi nodded, slowly sitting up and obediently swallowing the pill. Finishing the glass of water, he fell back onto the mattress with a low groan.

"Does it hurt?" Bokuto asked quietly, as though afraid to hear the answer.

"Yes, a bit." The angel sighed, carefully rolling his shoulders.

"The pill should help for that, too." Bokuto assured, but spoke as though he had little confidence in his words.

"Okay." Akaashi nodded, his eyes searching for Bokuto's, but failing to find them as the man covered his face with his palms and rubbed his temples. "Are you alright, Bokuto-san?"

"Sorry, I'm just worried." Bokuto shook his head, lowering his hands and looking up at the angel.

"I'm… I'm sure I will be fine." Akaashi spoke firmly, gazing into his golden eyes with all the resolve he could muster. "You needn't worry. I'll be okay."

"Thanks, Akaashi." Bokuto smiled, briefly closing his eyes, appreciating the angel's effort at reassuring him, despite feeling like the comfort should be going in the opposite direction. Opening his eyes once more, he noticed how tired Akaashi's features looked, his eye-lids drooping, his body lax. "Do you want to sleep now?"

"Yes, I think I could use some rest." The angel agreed, closing his eyes, the muscles in his face relaxing.

"Alright." Bokuto nodded, standing up. "Then sleep well."

"No, wait-" Akaashi's eyes suddenly shot open as he desperately grabbed the man's hand. "Don't go. Please don't go."

Bokuto watched him in silence, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape, as he felt the slim fingers in their tight grasp around his palm, as he saw the panic in the angel's features. "Akaashi…"

The angel only closed his eyes, turning his head away with a grimace as though the shame of his request caused him physical pain. "Just… Just please stay with me until I fall asleep."

Bokuto blinked a few times before finally nodding. "Okay. Okay, I'll stay."

"I'm sorry." Akaashi sighed, loosening his grip. "And thank you."

"It's alright." Bokuto smiled gently, kneeling by the bed and resting their joined hands on the mattress near the angel's shoulder. "Just relax. I'm not going anywhere."

Akaashi only nodded, taking a deeper breath and exhaling through his nose. Then slowly, earnestly, he lifted Bokuto's hand and placed it by his face, his own fingers remaining gently wrapped around it. The next instant, he softly pressed his lips to the man's knuckles, gingerly expressing his gratitude, the lips and his warm breath alike a sunny day at the very start of spring. Shy, but genuine, conveying his feelings as best as he could.

Bokuto only watched him in silence, lost for words, clueless on how to react. He relaxed his hand, and allowed the angel to comfortably hold it to his lips. He knew he could pull his hand away, laugh and say that it's unnecessary. But he didn't _want_ to pull away. He thought the act was sweet, and innocent and _beautiful_. It was nothing any regular human would do, certainly not to someone who was all but a stranger. Bokuto couldn't care less about how odd it might have seemed. He felt appreciated.

And for once, the angel looked at peace.

Pulling his hand away was the last thing Bokuto wanted to do.

So instead, Bokuto sat closer to the bed and watched as Akaashi relaxed, the tension leaving his body as he slowly fell asleep. The back of Bokuto's palm remained pressed to his lips, the angel's hands lightly holding it close, as though afraid of losing it, covering it, as though defending his only protector from the rest of the world. And by God, Bokuto could swear that he would protect him and help him with all he could offer.

Certain that the angel was now unconscious, Bokuto began looking for a way to free his hand and return to the living room. Before he could even try to move, however, Akaashi's body suddenly jerked and he squeezed the man's hand tighter. "Bokuto-san…" he whispered his name desperately.

"I'm here. It's alright, Akaashi." Bokuto assured softly, squeezing his hand tighter. "I'm right here. It's okay."

"…closer." The angel pleaded quietly.

Bokuto blinked before closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Akaashi's. "Like this?"

"Yes." He sighed in mild relief. Taking deep, uneven breaths, he finally loosened his grip on Bokuto's hand and spoke in audible shame. "I'm sorry, I'm pathetic. I should just let you go to sleep."

"No, don't say that." Bokuto insisted, lightly stroking down the angel's palm with his fingers. "It's alright, really. I can go to sleep once I know that you're comfortable. I'll stay with you until then."

"I'm sorry." The words came out with a sob. To Bokuto's surprise, they weren't followed by tears. Only more words pronounced with that hushed, pained voice. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just feel so…"

"It's okay, you don't need to explain yourself." The man assured, his voice kind, all but melodic. "You've been through a lot. I understand if you're scared of being alone. But I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you fall asleep and I'll be here when you wake up. I know I'm not much help and perhaps you'd prefer someone else, but… I'll be here for you, if that's what you need."

"You're more than I could ask for, Bokuto-san." Akaashi pronounced softly, but quickly, desperately, as though he couldn't believe his luck. "Thank you."

"It's okay, just breathe and relax." Bokuto whispered, softly resting the side of his nose against Akaashi's. "I won't leave you."

"Thank you." The angel only repeated before finally taking a longer inhale, followed by a slow exhale. Then another one and one more, until he caught a steady rhythm. Bokuto raised one of his hands and stroked down the angel's cheek with the back of his fingers, doing all he could come up with to comfort the divine creature. Suddenly, Akaashi ceased his deep breathing and lightly shifted his head on the pillow.

"Sorry, should I stop?" Bokuto drew his hand back, uncertain and afraid that he only made him feel uncomfortable.

"No." Akaashi finally pronounced, reaching for the man's hand and pulling it behind him so that it cradled his head. "Keep it like this, please."

"Okay." Bokuto smiled softly, lightly threading his fingers through the angel's hair.

And only then did Akaashi relax. Perhaps not entirely, but Bokuto quickly noticed that his breath calmed and his muscles released the tension they clung to previously. Bokuto allowed himself to relax alongside him, breathing in time with the angel, resting his head on the pillow and falling into a half-conscious state, somewhere between sleep and waking, somewhere quiet where his mind was empty and the only sound was the air entering and leaving Akaashi's nose. The man relished the peace, appreciated the moment he got to spend with the angel without worrying about having to help him, simply being there for him.

Finally, Bokuto blinked, opened his eyes, woke up.

Drawing his head back, he noticed that the angel was sound asleep.

"Akaashi." He pronounced his name softly, wanting to be absolutely certain that he wouldn't leave him before he was properly asleep.

There was no response.

The angel breathed evenly, his features loosened, his fingers lax on Bokuto's hand.

Bokuto carefully pulled his hands out of his hair and grasp respectively and sat by the bed, watching him for a few moments.

Akaashi looked so vulnerable in his sleep. To Bokuto, he appeared so pure, so innocent, so… ephemeral, as though he was just a dream which could disappear at any given moment. But Bokuto had to stop and wonder – was that the real Akaashi? Or was that just his vision of him based on what he was shown and taught about angels earlier in his life? He figured that Akaashi should look weak and frail, but he didn't; not exactly, at least. He was certainly weakened in his current condition, without a limb, barely taking any meals and with a fever, but he had a strong build. From what Bokuto could tell from his remaining wing, the wings weren't just for show – they were sturdy and built well enough to fly for hours. Until the accident, Akaashi had been not only physically able – he looked fit, as though he exercised often. Bokuto supposed it made sense – he wouldn't have been able to fly if he were physically weak. But why was he flying over Tokyo? Where was he headed? Those matters still remained a mystery.

Bokuto watched him for some time, considering his physique and how strong Akaashi must have been when he was at full health.

Though his face… his features were truly angelic. He was beautiful, and yet Bokuto felt like that word was an understatement. Perhaps there was nothing particularly special about his looks – Boktuo was certain Akaashi would look absolutely ordinary to many people. But not to him. To him, he was visually stunning. He looked like the sort of guy Bokuto would have flirted with at a bar, despite panicking slightly that he was way out of his league.

But the situation now could hardly even be compared to that.

Bokuto shook his head.

Akaashi was not a potential target for his short-lived, impulsive love. Bokuto decided that he shouldn't even attempt to think of him that way. He was simply a person in need of help.

Though it didn't hurt anyone to think that he was beautiful, did it?

Bokuto finally stood up with a sigh and clicked his neck, ridding it of the uncomfortable pressure within it. He took a step to the end of the bed and pulled a blanket over the angel, leaving his back uncovered.

"Sleep well, Akaashi." He smiled to himself as he whispered and headed to the living room to find the night's rest in the (dis)comfort of his couch.

* * *

When Akaashi woke up, the pleasant touch on his hands and head was gone.

He was alone.

Physically, he felt better.

Mentally, he suddenly felt uneasy.

The apartment was silent.

Akaashi took a deep breath to calm himself.

All this meant was that Bokuto was still asleep. Akaashi felt that he should have just left it at that, he kept him up unnecessarily long after all.

But the unease made him feel nauseated. He promised himself that he would just check on him and then immediately let him go back to sleep. He took a deep breath.

"Bokuto-san?" he called and waited. There was no response.

"Bokuto-san!" he yelled louder, unnecessarily loud, he thought, but the feeling in his stomach was slowly turning into agitation and he couldn't quite control himself.

There was no response.

Dread filling his entire body, Akaashi sat up on the bed, placed his feet on the floor and stood up. He was still dizzy and weak, but his nerves spurred him on. Holding on to a wall, he walked out to the corridor and over to the kitchen. He looked around and peered over into the living room. He found only a crumpled blanket on the sofa. No sign of the man.

He limped over to the bathroom door and knocked on it before noticing that it was unlocked. Bokuto wasn't there either.

He was gone.

 _I'm not going anywhere_.

He lied.

Akaashi winced and stumbled back into the bedroom.

He fell back on the bed, anxiety, fear and betrayal filling him whole.

Akaashi closed his eyes and hugged his pillow close.

He didn't know where Bokuto could have gone and how long he had been gone and why he had left him but he knew that he couldn't even go out there and search for him.

He would have to wait until he came back to receive answers.

That was _if_ he would come back.

Akaashi wondered what he had done to be left all alone now.

He wondered what he would do if Bokuto never came back.

He wondered why Bokuto was so kind to him if he intended to leave him from the very beginning.

_I'll be here when you fall asleep._

Akaashi covered his head with the blanket, as though trying to sleep out of spite for the man.

_I'll be here when you wake up._

"Liar." Akaashi whispered.

He wasn't there.

Akaashi couldn't help the tears pressing at his eyelids.

He could manage alone, he _would_ manage on his own if he had to.

But it hurt to be so blatantly cheated.

It hurt more than Akaashi would have ever imagined.

He closed his eyes and did his best to shut out the rest of the world from his mind.

Before long, all he could focus on were two things.

Darkness.

And pain.

* * *

Hearing the sound of the door to the apartment opening, Akaashi immediately uncovered and raised his head, listening.

The next instant, Bokuto opened the door to his bedroom and walked in. "Hey there, Akaashi, you're up already? How do you feel?" he asked lightheartedly.

"Where were you?" Akaashi made the effort to turn his head and immediately snapped despite feeling relief flood his chest. Unfortunately for them, it was soon replaced by anger.

"Oh, I just went over to the convenience store for some food and to the pharmacy to resupply and buy some more useful things." Bokuto explained conversationally. "Apparently, you shouldn't use iodine to disinfect wounds unless it's really an emergency, so I got a different product they recommended. Wanna try it out today? We should keep the wound clean, but I don't want to hurt you while maintaining it."

"You went to the store?" Akaashi asked in disbelief with a furious glare. "And didn't bother telling me about it?"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you up." Bokuto justified, suddenly becoming aware of the angel's mood.

"Well, I woke up anyway. All alone. Without any explanation as to where you might be and when you'll be back." Akaashi raised his voice in anger, but it cracked just as he was taking another breath. "Can you imagine how I felt?"

"I'm sorry, Akaashi." The man dropped his gaze to the floor and winced. "I was actually thinking of leaving you a note, but then I wasn't sure if you can read Japanese and I can't really speak English or anything else, so I just hoped that I'll be back before you wake up… And to be fair, I've been out for less than an hour, so it's not like I left you alone for half a day or anything…"

Tears pooled in Akaashi's eyes and he noticed that his throat was too tight to speak normally. "You said you would be here when I wake up." He sobbed softly before he could stop himself. He swallowed and began anew, speaking calmer, but his voice remaining small and weak. "First of all, you lied to me. Second of all, you can't even imagine how worried I was when I noticed that you were gone. Third of all-"

"Akaashi, I'm really sorry. I really am. Please don't be upset. You know I didn't mean-" Bokuto apologized and through his tone alone the angel knew that it was genuine. But he couldn't stand any of it now.

"I know." The angel cut him off. "I accept your apology, but I am sorry to say that I can't think straight right now. I feel relieved but also sad and betrayed and I can't get over this so quickly. I know you didn't intent to hurt me but I can't change the fact that I am hurt. So please just… please just leave me alone for a while."

Bokuto opened his mouth, but didn't argue. "Okay." He turned around and headed for the door, but just before leaving, he faced him once more. "I really am sorry, Akaashi. It was extremely stupid of me."

"Please just go." The angel shook his head and buried it in his pillow.

When he heard the door close behind him, he began crying.

Tears of anger at Bokuto and his lack of sympathy, but also tears of relief that he wouldn't be left all to himself after all (and God, he was far more relieved than he would ever imagine possible), and then tears of anger directed at himself for being so harsh on Bokuto who made an honest mistake, and in the end committed it through doing something _for_ him and he should have been grateful, not mad, but he just couldn't help himself.

The weeping tired him out soon, and he ended up falling asleep, finally empty, his body cleansed of all his conflicting feelings.

When he woke up, it was early afternoon, judging by the slowly dimming January sunlight.

This meant that he was out cold for the past few hours at least.

And that meant that he left Bokuto hanging all this time.

He immediately got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen as fast as his weakened body allowed him to.

"Bokuto-san." He called out to the man when he saw him sitting at the kitchen table in front of his laptop.

"Akaashi." Bokuto immediately stood up, his eyes wide, surprised that the angel was walking. "Is everything okay? What happened?"

It only took Akaashi a brief glance to notice that Bokuto's eyes were red, his eyelids swollen, still damp from crying. And it was his fault.

The angel quickly threw his hands forward and embraced Bokuto's chest as tightly as he could, hoping that it would get at least a part of his feelings across. "I'm sorry, Bokuto-san. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. I can understand your reasoning and it was unfair of me to treat you like that."

"No, Akaashi, you were right." Bokuto argued, gently wrapping his own hands around the angel's frame, careful not to touch his remaining wing. "I didn't think of how you would feel. I promised you something and it was something _so simple_ and I couldn't even do that much. You have every right to be mad at me. I'm mad at myself."

"No, don't be." Akaashi insisted. "You meant well. You didn't intend to leave me. I overreacted and I was unfair to you. So I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for." Bokuto assured softly. "I really should have just woken you up or left you a note or just… done anything. I didn't stop for a moment to think how you might react if you wake up and I'm not there. I was sure that I'd be back before you woke up and you'd never notice. But that was stupid of me. I'm really really sorry, Akaashi."

"And I shouldn't have left you on the edge, thinking that I was upset for the past few hours." Akaashi argued. "Because I'm not. I was just sad, but I didn't want to make you feel guilty. So I'm sorry. For making you worry and making you blame yourself, at least."

"Well, but it is my fault. I'm the one who caused this." Bokuto admitted softly and the angel could swear that he felt his body tremble lightly. "I should have just let you know."

"Yeah, you should have." Akaashi agreed. "And I should have been more understanding. Especially that you went out to buy things for me. And I definitely should have told you earlier that I'm no longer upset. We both made mistakes. It's alright. Life goes on."

"You think so?" Bokuto asked, sounding as though he was smiling through tears.

"Yes. We just have to make sure not to repeat them. And we will be fine." Akaashi assured, clinging harder to Bokuto, hearing the man's breath slowly calm.

"Yeah, you're right." Bokuto finally admitted with an audible smile. "But I'm sorry about what happened nonetheless. Hope you can forgive me?"

"Yeah." Akaashi nodded, his face pressed to the man's chest, suddenly feeling a wave of tears rising in his throat. "I'm sorry for making you feel guilty. You don't deserve such treatment after being so kind to me."

"It's alright." Bokuto exhaled with an audible smile. "I'm fine now. And we're even – unintentionally, but we're even. We can move on now. I promise I won't do anything so stupid ever again." He suddenly felt a sob shake the angel's body. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Akaashi pronounced quickly, too quickly, struggling to calm his breath and blink away the tears.

"Akaashi…" he stroked down his back. "Are you sure?"

If he refused to tell him, Bokuto wouldn't push for answers. But if his question could encourage him to speak and tell him the reason for the sudden breakdown then he wouldn't hesitate to ask at least once.

Akaashi wanted to contain himself, stop himself from adding to Bokuto's growing list of worries but a strange sort of honesty floated up within him. "No." The angel shook his head quietly, rubbing his forehead against Bokuto's collarbone. "I'm sorry, just… I felt so… lonely without you around. I was so afraid." He took a shaky breath in a failed attempt to calm himself. "I don't mean to make you feel bad by saying this but I need to get it out of my system. I don't know why, but recently, I hate being alone. Please just… Don't leave so suddenly next time. If it's just for a little bit, I can manage on my own but I want to be sure that you'll come back."

"Oh, Akaashi." Bokuto cooed sympathetically, pressing his hand to the back of his hair, gently cradling his head to his chest and holding him close. "I promise I won't leave you like that ever again, okay? I'm not leaving you. I'll be here when you need me."

"Okay." Akaashi nodded on a shaky exhale. Suddenly, he felt his head spin harder, the floor disappearing from under his feet in an instant. Bokuto only clung to him tighter, supported him with his chest, his arms accidentally sliding upwards as he did his best to catch Akaashi and keep him standing upright. Akaashi's world felt like it was turned upside down, but he could feel one thing for sure – Bokuto's hand on the base of his remaining wing, the area where skin met feather, where the limb was attached to his back. Instinctively, he pushed Bokuto away with a groan and almost fell backwards before the man could catch him, his hands far from his wing this time around, now slowly helping him walk out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry." Bokuto sighed.

"I'm fine." Akaashi shrugged, the small gesture already stirring his shaky balance, speaking truly like anyone who was not fine.

"Sorry for holding your wing." Bokuto quickly recognized what he did wrong.

"It's fine." The angel shook his head, slowly approaching the bed with Bokuto's help. He didn't hate the idea of Bokuto touching his wing – not anymore, not since he'd become the only person he could trust – and his touch didn't hurt. But somehow it stirred something deep inside him, something that brought an extreme feeling of discomfort and hazy thoughts telling him to cease the contact immediately. He didn't understand their source or their meaning but he hardly had the mind to stand, much less to question his instincts. "Just please be careful."

"I will." Bokuto promised softly, helping Akaashi lay down on the bed on his stomach, his eyes closed, arms slowly wrapping around the pillow, searching for some even ground. "How do you feel?"

Akaashi only shrugged with a light wince. The man softly pressed the inside of his palm to his forehead. "You don't have a fever, at least."

"That's probably good." The angel agreed, slowly relaxing his arms and opening his eyes to look at the man. The dizziness was passing. And with a clearer mind, he could think properly. "Do you think I wouldn't be able to read Japanese?"

"I… I don't know. I mean, you speak fluently." Bokuto focused his gaze on a wall and blinked a few times. "It'd make sense if you could. Then again, our writing system isn't exactly easy so…"

"Could you show me something in Japanese? That's probably the best way to find out." Akaashi suggested, his eyes already glancing around the room in search of something he could try to read.

"Right." Bokuto nodded in agreement. He swiftly made his way to his desk, picked up a pencil and an opened lined notebook and laid it on his lap. He pressed his lips together as he wrote down a few characters as neatly as his unimpressive skills allowed him to before finally lifting the notebook in front of Akaashi's eyes. "So? Can you read it?"

Akaashi squinted, adjusting his eyes to the shifting distance. He momentarily blinked and recited with ease. "I'll be back before 11 am. Please don't worry."

"Well, shit." Bokuto let his hands holding the pencil and the notebook fall to his lap. "This makes me look stupid."

"It's okay, I'm not upset anymore." Akaashi shook his head. "And it wasn't stupid of you. Just… careless, I suppose."

"Yeah…" Bokuto sighed and closed his eyes. "Well, it's fine. We're fine now. And I spent these past few hours doing more research so at least we got something productive out of it."

"Do you have any answers yet?" Akaashi all but immediately attempted to sit up, his head shooting up, but his arms failing to lift him very far. Bokuto understood his interest in the matter regardless of his physical capabilities.

"I'll bring my laptop here and read what I've found." Bokuto stood up, took a step, then stopped. "Say, wouldn't you want to eat something? I understand that your appetite must be lower than usual but you'll need nutrients to recover faster."

Akaashi blinked, considered his empty stomach, which hardly bothered him thus far, and took the reasonable approach. "Okay. I could eat something small."

Bokuto's features immediately lit up with a soft smile. "Alright. I'll cook you up something easy on the stomach."

"Thank you." The angel nodded politely, seeing him off as he left the room.

Akaashi wasn't watching the clock, but he was certain that not even ten minutes had passed before the man returned with a small bowl in one hand and his laptop in the other.

The angel did his best to finish the humble meal, and even managed to eat the most of it, so Bokuto only nodded, without forcing him to finish the portion. The fact that Akaashi was willing to eat something on his own was already progress and a sign of his swiftly approaching recovery. Bokuto concluded that this could only be a good thing.

As Akaashi ate, Bokuto began reading his findings to him. This time he had found and noted down multiple bible verses (justifying it by saying that searching in the bible, the most popular religious scripture he could recall, would probably be a good place to start) and a few links to sites which expanded on the quotes.

After a while, Bokuto paused to ask: "Do you want me to read the passage titled 'How do we know angels exist'? I think it might be a bit extra considering that I know that you exist because you're _right here._ "

"I suppose I could glance through it." The angel shrugged, setting his bowl onto the bedside table.

"I guess your dizziness has passed then?" Bokuto tilted his head, hesitantly.

"Yeah, more or less. I should be able to read on my own." Akaashi assured.

"Alright, then feel free to." Bokuto nodded, turning the laptop 180 degrees so that the screen faced the angel. "See the touchpad on the bottom of the keyboard? Use that if you want to scroll or click."

Akaashi was at first confused by the odd way in which the piece of technology was operated, but he finally managed to awkwardly grasp the basics and scroll down, scanning through the article. It didn't seem to contain anything relevant, so instead he glanced at the titles on the side of the block of text. As far as he understood, they were 'links' that would take him to articles expanding on the topics presented in their titles. Two words aligned together caught his attention.

_Fallen angels_

To his best knowledge he was an angel. And he had fallen. Fallen too long, too far from home, too hard to remember anything of substance. The description fit him perfectly. If he was not a fallen angel then what was he?

He directed the cursor at the title and clicked.

What immediately alarmed him was the subtitle he saw as the page loaded. One word placed between two brackets.

_(Demons)_

He felt as though his heart had blocked his throat, then jumped and fell, long, far, hard, all the way to his stomach as he began reading.

The fall of the angels was not a physical or spacial one at all. It was a metaphorical one, carrying an all but allegoric meaning - a fall from grace.

Angels who were considered 'fallen' had turned away from God, and were accordingly punished. They were judged for their sins and dismissed permanently. There was no pardon for those who have done wrong, no hope for redemption, and no mercy.

Akaashi suddenly felt that he might just throw up his most recent meal.

In the span of mere minutes he turned from a victim to a criminal, to someone who _deserved_ to be punished, to someone who brought this fate upon himself.

He pushed the laptop away so that Bokuto could read the contents of the screen, as the angel watched him with tear-filled eyes.

"Is this what I am?" he asked softly, as though afraid that voicing his thoughts would make his fears come true.

Bokuto quickly shook his head. "No. No way. I refuse to believe that."

"But it fits, doesn't it?" Akaashi argued. "It explains just about everything."

"I don't care. You've done nothing wrong. This doesn't apply to you." Bokuto insisted firmly, all but raising his voice.

"But what if it does? What if I just don't remember it? What if that's part of the punishment?" Akaashi kept pushing, gnashing his teeth, desperation and sheer fury at the possibility that all of this was true in his wet eyes. He soon shut them tightly and fell back onto the pillow, stifling sobs in the back of his throat. "What if I fully deserve this hell?"

He kept his voice down, but couldn't quite help the tears escaping his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. Bokuto wiped them away with the tips of his fingers, as gently as he could. "That's not true, Akaashi. Don't ever say that. You did nothing to deserve this. _No one_ deserves something like this."

"See, I'd like to believe you." Akaashi sighed once he could properly catch his breath, covering Bokuto's fingers with his own. "But the truth is that you don't know that, and neither do I. Maybe the higher power that commanded this is truly that cruel? Maybe my 'sin' was that bad? Maybe none of this is true, maybe this isn't punishment at all, maybe this was an accident or a terrible joke, but that somehow doesn't reassure me. Being a fallen angel at least provides explanation, some sort of justification, no matter how disagreeable it may be. It's _something_. I hate it, but at least it's not nothing. And I just..."

New tears appeared on his cheeks as the angel attempted to catch his breath and calm his voice. He only managed this feat partially, but he felt confident enough to speak, now with Bokuto softly brushing his hands down his face once more. "I just want to know _why._ I wish I could know the reason for why I must endure this suffering. I won't get my wing back, but at this point I would do anything just to understand why this had to happen. If I sinned – fair enough. If this was completely uncalled for, at least I gain something I can despise and fight. If only I could do _something_ to learn the truth..."

"I'm so sorry, Akaashi." Bokuto sighed, cupping the angel's tear-stained cheek. "I wish I could be of more help. I really don't know if just searching the internet will get us closer to the answer, but that's about all I can do. I'm sorry for not being able to do more."

Akaashi only shook his head. "You're doing more than enough. And the research is helping, at least I think it is. Maybe it will lead us to some conclusion eventually. I'd like you to keep going, if you don't mind."

"Alright, I'll do my best." Bokuto nodded, stroking down the angel's cheek. "This is just the beginning, Akaashi. Maybe we can still avenge you."

"I don't want vengeance." Akaashi all but scoffed. "I don't even want justice. I really just want to understand. I want to move on. If I can't return then I just want to find a way to live in this sorry state. I just want the pain to be over."

"Okay. I'll do all I can to help." Bokuto promised. "Just say the word."

"Thank you." The angel ran his fingers over Bokuto's hand. "And at least one thing is clear."

Bokuto watched him with widened eyes, head tilted in question.

"I do not know how horrible a crime I have committed, but I do know that this is not the work of a loving, merciful God. In fact, I can hardly believe that a God may exist in a world where this is considered a fair punishment."

"Yeah." Bokuto nodded with certainty. "I refuse to believe in a God that would consider it fair to treat _anyone_ like this."

"There can be no God in a world like this." Akaashi continued. "And if He does exist – he is not _my_ God. Regardless of who I was before."

"Amen to that." Bokuto agreed.

Akaashi offered him a tearful smirk. "What if it's something like this that got me here? Blasphemy?"

"It's too late now, isn't it?" Bokuto smiled back sadly.

"Yeah." Akaashi sighed. "Not like I can be sure though. If all of this really is my fault then I wish that I wouldn't have done what I've done that brought me here. I wish I could go back and fix things. But I don't think that's how things work around here. And if this punishment is permanent anyway, blasphemy changes nothing now. They did their job, they disposed of me. I bet that they couldn't care less what happens to me now."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Bokuto pronounced on an exhale before the room fell silent, Akaashi only nodding in agreement, his fists closed as he breathed slowly with his eyes shut. They sat there for a few seconds, unmoving, unspeaking, only thinking. Bokuto was the first one to speak. "Hey, could we maybe try out that new anti-septic I bought? I think changing the dressing by now would be a good idea."

The angel immediately seemed smaller in his fear. "Okay." he agreed regardless. He knew that the man was right.

He felt empty on the inside anyway.

Perhaps some physical pain could prove to be enough stimulation for his tired mind?

* * *

The procedure was faster and less painful than either of them expected.

Of course, it hurt and Akaashi's wince was the best proof of that, but he did not scream this time. He did not cry. He did not cling to the sheets and writhe on the bed as though his skin was slowly but thoroughly being peeled from his flesh. Withstanding the treatment no longer felt like torture. And Bokuto's proud smile as he finished wrapping him in fresh bandages was almost enough compensation for the intense discomfort he was forced to experience.

Akaashi even agreed to letting him clean the wound more often so long as they used the new anti-septic. Bokuto was overjoyed to hear that his purchase had been such a good choice after all. He was also glad to notice that the angel's wound seemed to look better. Everything seemed to be on the right track to a swift recovery.

Bokuto had no way of knowing at the time, but _seem_ would soon truly become the crack that would shatter his optimism.

At the moment however, he was ready to let the angel go to sleep and himself return to the living room. And then he stopped, and thought. "Akaashi, I was thinking. Would you like me to sleep with you in this room?"

The angel looked at him, wide-eyed, and hopeful, betraying more emotion than he intended. "Could you?" he soon dropped his gaze, as though embarrassed by his excitement, watching his pillow with disinterest instead. "I mean, the bed might be too small for the both of us."

"I have a futon in the closet. I'd sleep on the ground." Bokuto explained, moving the chair to the side to make enough space on the floor. "I've done it before and yeah, it'd definitely work. I just thought you'd prefer to be alone. I'd rather make sure that you want me to stay here."

"Somehow 'alone' doesn't do the trick for me." Akaashi sighed melancholiclly, his eyes still refusing to meet Bokuto's. "So yes. If you could sleep here, I'd... greatly appreciate it."

"Okay." Bokuto grinned. "I'll take a shower, find the futon, and be right back, okay? Give me a few minutes."

Akaashi agreed with a nod and listened to the man's steps with his eyes closed. He wanted to try falling asleep even before Bokuto returned, but somehow it wasn't as simple as he would have liked it. Too many thoughts, too many emotions passed through his body to drift unconscious without struggle. His own words almost fooled him into thinking that he no longer cared about his loss, but this couldn't be further from the truth. He was certain that nothing could justify his missing wing, nothing would ever make up for his suffering. But he _wanted_ to not care, to move on, to accept that his wing was not coming back, that his life would look different from now on. Different. Different to what? He didn't remember what his previous life looked like anyway. He was all but a clean slate except for the remaining wing. He could already tell that the extra limb would become an issue if he ever wanted to start a new life on the ground, among humans. Absolutely wingless humans.

It was all too much to accept, even if it was a fair punishment, as the religious text suggested.

Those wounds needed time, in more ways than one.

He was still at the point of telling himself that things could be different _if only_ he hadn't done something, that things would still be different _if only_ he did something.

Somewhere deep inside, he knew that his bargaining wouldn't get him anywhere.

That didn't stop him from listing his _if only_ s.

He could only get his mind off of fallen angels, crimes and punishments when Bokuto returned to the room, a rolled up thick piece of fabric under his arm. He rolled it out on the floor before walking over to the bed and kneeling by Akaashi's side. "Do you want me to sit here until you fall asleep?" he asked softly.

The angel only cupped Bokuto's cheek in gratitude, but soon shook his head. "I'll be okay."

"Will you wake me up if you won't be okay?" Bokuto pleaded. "Like if it starts hurting again. Or if you just suddenly feel lonely."

Akaashi felt somewhat silly for telling the man about his loneliness. But a part of him was also happy to hear that Bokuto didn't mind being woken even if the reason was as trivial as feeling lonely.

"Yes." he replied with a brief nod. He hoped that the pill he took after they changed the dressing of his wound would keep his pain down until morning. He hoped that the man's proximity would remedy his other issue.

"Then good night, Akaashi." He pronounced before pressing his lips to the angel's knuckles. "Remember: I'm right here if you need me."

"Good night, Bokuto-san." he replied softly. "Thank you for everything."

Bokuto only grinned in response, and somehow that was enough to make the angel's chest feel lighter.

He watched the man turn out the lights, then listened to him entering the futon, then heard his calm, even breath.

He tried to match his own to its slow pace. Once he succeeded, he felt his consciousness slowly escape.

_If you could sleep here, I'd sleep better myself._

The words he never voiced echoed in his mind as he fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

Somehow, the presence of the man made everything a little better.

Perhaps with Bokuto-san, life among humans wouldn't be so hard after all.

Perhaps this man could actually help.

Perhaps _he_ could change things.

For the first time since his fall, Akaashi fell asleep feeling _hopeful_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost half past 4 and I can't think of any relevant end notes apart from these three:
> 
> Sorry for making you wait so long!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> And, I hope to see you again soon! (And I'd love any and all feedback if you have any thoughts on the story so far~ ^^ )


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: I'm really sorry that the updates are so slow but I'm writing two stories at the same time and my life has been kind of busy so I'm afraid they won't be getting any faster than this. :')
> 
> Second of all: This chapter is completely unbeta-ed. If you see any stupid mistakes or things that just don't make sense - that's the reason (I'll try to fix them within 24 hours.)
> 
> Third of all: TRIGGER WARNING: Suicidal thoughts.
> 
> And with that out of the way, I hope you can enjoy!

When Akaashi woke, he immediately turned his eyes towards the ground.

He found Bokuto sitting cross-legged on the futon with a large, hardcover book in his hands. The man caught his gaze and grinned. "Morning!"

"Morning." Akaashi mumbled with a nod, his voice still rough and sleepy. He extended his arms and attempted to stretch his stiff body when he was hit with the sharp pain in his back – a reminder that being well-rested wasn't equal to being healed. He groaned lightly, trying to ignore the pain, wanting it to fade.

"You okay?" Bokuto looked to him attentively to which the angel only waved his hand in dismissal.

"I'm fine." He insisted, not wanting to start the day off with painkillers. Not to mention that he felt like his back hurt less than before – not quite as piercing, the burn lighter now, only becoming a bother when he moved, but no longer when he rested. He told Bokuto as much.

"That's great then." He smiled even wider, genuinely pleased with the news.

"What are you reading?" Akaashi motioned his head to the book in the man's lap, wanting to divert the conversation away from himself.

"Oh, this?" Bokuto chuckled, closed the book and raised it so that the angel could read the title. "It's 'My first owl encyclopedia'!"

"And why are you reading it…?" Akaashi asked, squinting his eyes in confusion. The book itself was thin and the cover featured a simple drawing of a brown owl. Surely, someone who studied zoology and worked in an owl cafe must have owned more complex books about owls.

"Nostalgia, I guess." The man looked at the book with a fond smile. "I _did_ help create it, after all."

"You wrote a book?" Akaashi blinked in surprise.

"Mm, not exactly." Bokuto hummed. "I did the drawings. My friend did the writing. I have this incredible feeling that this is exactly why the book sold so poorly – we used drawings instead of photos and my friend went into full science mode and wrote descriptions that kids could never understand. I think he took the 'my first encyclopedia' thing a little too literally. We probably should have planned it better or gotten a second opinion before, you know, publishing it."

"You draw?" The angel kept watching him, brows furrowed as though he was doing his best to understand the scope of what Bokuto was saying.

"Yeah, I guess." Bokuto smiled. "It started off as a distraction but then I got pretty good at it and my friend and I figured we could put our skills to good use."

"A distraction from what?" Akaashi tilted his head in confusion.

"Never mind." Bokuto shook his head, his tone cooler now. This only made the angel more curious. But he knew he wouldn't be able to force him to tell him. He decided to return to the previous topic.

"Can I see the drawings?" he asked, extending his hand for the book.

"Yeah, sure." Bokuto smiled, his voice light and easygoing once more, as he opened the book on a two-page spread and passed it into the angel's hands.

Akaashi's mouth fell agape. They weren't just mediocre pencil sketches like he'd imagined – the illustration was a full-fledged, realistic redraw of a photo, painted with… he knew that sort of paint. "Water colors."

"Yeah." Bokuto confirmed. "It's not bad, is it?"

"It's beautiful." The angel all but gasped, running his fingers over the drawing of the owl. It was life-like, yet kept those careful artistic touches that emphasized its painted nature. In some way, it felt gentle and inviting, as though the owl weren't a nocturnal predator, but a budgie which one could keep at home and shower with love. At the same time, it had the air of a peacock, proudly strutting and presenting its assets – gorgeous, but distant and untouchable. Lastly, it had that smart quality with which owls tended to be associated; there was something awe-inspiring about it. Akaashi could tell that it was an amalgamation of the feelings of an owl café employee, a zoologist and a wistful artist. There was no mistaking Bokuto's art. Having seen it once, Akaashi was certain that he would recognize it anywhere.

"You think so?" The man chuckled with an uncharacteristically shy smile and a light flush on his cheeks.

"Yes, absolutely." Akaashi nodded with certainty. "It's amazing."

"Wow, thanks." Bokuto laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm glad you like it."

The angel was only half-listening, his eyes focused on the beautiful, water color bird. He ran his fingers down its wings absentmindedly, not putting more thought into the activity, simply appreciating the illustration and wondering about the animal it depicted. "What is this owl called?"

"The name's right on the other page." Bokuto advised, which the angel acknowledged and managed to pull his eyes away from the unique bird. Just as the man had said, the other page featured its name and a longer description of the owl. Akaashi's eyes fell on the name and remained on it.

"Horned owl." He read out loud. " _Bokuto_."

The man only grinned at him in clear excitement.

"You're named after an owl?" he asked, confusion furrowing his brows.

"No, it's just a coincidence." Bokuto chuckled, shaking his head. "But yeah, we do share that name." He then froze and suddenly clapped his hands, slightly startling Akaashi. "Oh man, I almost completely forgot! Pass me the book."

Akaashi only blinked, but didn't argue and returned him the hardcover.

"This was why I pulled it out in the first place…" he said tentatively, opening the book in his lap and flipping through the pages. "I remembered it just this morning but… there!"

He raised the open book for Akaashi to see. It featured a large illustration of a slim, tall owl, painted in even stripes of dark brown and light beige water colors, its eyes large and further emphasized by the pattern of its coat. It, too, was beautiful. "It's really pretty."

"Oh, thanks." The man seemed caught off guard but collected himself quickly enough and pointed Akaashi to the thing he really wanted him to look at. "But the text! Read the text!"

The angel's eyes began with the name of the bird. He blinked in sudden realization. "Rufous-legged owl. _Akaashi-mori-fukurou._ "

"Yeah. Isn't it so cool?" Bokuto beamed. "The first thing that came to my mind when I said the name _Akaashi_ was obviously the partridge, but then I remembered that I heard it somewhere before. We didn't have these in our café so I didn't initially realize that it was also an owl but then it clicked and… here it is!"

Akaashi stared at him in silence for a moment. "And… what does that change?"

"Akaashi." Bokuto pouted. "Can't we get some more enthusiasm here?"

"I'm sorry." The angel lowered his eyes. "But I really don't understand."

"You also share a name with an owl! Just like me! That's awesome, don't you think?" Bokuto encouraged with a grin.

"I suppose…" Akaashi shrugged. "Do you like owls?"

"I love owls!" he exclaimed emphatically.

"More than partridges?" The angel wondered, curious.

"Well, yeah." Bokuto admitted with a nod and a shrug before covering his mouth from one side and stage whispering: "But don't tell the partridges."

"Okay." Akaashi flashed a small smile (which felt like nothing short of a blessing to Bokuto). "That is quite nice then."

"So, you wanna be the owl-Akaashi or the partridge-Akaashi from now on?" Bokuto wanted to settle, patting his thighs in excitement, waiting for the angel's answer.

"Owl Akaashi please." The angel nodded.

"Welcome to the owl order then." Bokuto extended his hand and Akaashi shook it with a light bow of the head.

Akaashi held his hand for longer than he expected and Bokuto couldn't help grinning at the fact. When the angel realized he had overstayed his welcome in Bokuto's grip, he carefully pulled his hand away and let his gaze drop to the pages of the book still resting on the bed.

"But I really have to wonder." Akaashi began, running his fingers down the fluffy belly of the owl in the illustration. "You're so skilled; why aren't you selling your art?"

"Who says I'm not?" Bokuto challenged with a smirk, before shaking his head with a chuckle. "No, I'm not selling it, not really."

"Why not?" The angel tilted his head in question.

"I don't know, I just… don't think anyone would want to buy it." Bokuto simply shrugged.

"How will you know if you don't try?" Akaashi insisted, somehow disappointed with the man's reasoning.

"Funny. I heard that before." Bokuto chuckled, a tinge of nostalgia creeping into his voice.

"From whom?" Akaashi pressed.

"You're really curious today, aren't you?" The man smirked, shaking his head. If Bokuto was making fun of him or was tired of his questions, then Akaashi couldn't tell it from his cheerful demeanor.

"You're finally telling me something about yourself. Of course I'd be curious." The angel insisted. It was a great distraction, too. Thinking about Bokuto meant he didn't have to think about himself. He was convinced that focusing on himself and his own problems could only bring about more pain than good. This way he could escape his oppressive thoughts and his broken body, if only for a little while.

"You have a point." Bokuto released a light laugh. "My ex-boyfriend told me that I should at least try selling them. Well, my ex-boyfriend, now friend, I guess."

"You're still friends with your ex-boyfriend?" Akaashi blinked in surprise.

"Well, we were friends before we started dating. We decided that we shouldn't end our friendship just because our romantic relationship didn't work out. So yeah, we're friends." Bokuto explained before looking to his bedside table, picking up a framed photo and passing it to Akaashi. "Look, that's us."

The picture featured Bokuto and his friend in casual clothing, their large hairstyles groomed neatly, their hands around each other's waists, posing for a photo, making victory signs with their fingers and grinning. Akaashi could tell they were happy. He could also tell that the other man was Bokuto's friend – his wild black hair stylized similarly to Bokuto's. There was something cat-like about his features, but in a positive way. Akaashi felt like he was not an expert in that particular field but he thought that the man was attractive – visually appealing in a way that made some people want to get to know a person better, and drove away those who thought they had no chance. He piqued the angel's interest.

"Do you still love him?" he asked simply.

"Maybe." Bokuto sighed with the tone of a man who still kept a picture of him and his ex-partner framed by his bed. "But I know he's happy with someone else now. And I'm happy for him; he's been wanting this for years now. So it's fine the way it is."

"Was that why you broke up? There was someone else?" Akaashi pried with innocent curiosity.

"Yes and no. It's not as simple as that. I don't think I can explain it well enough." Bokuto shook his head, looking down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers quietly.

The angel allowed the silence to briefly embrace them, feeling the weight of the air in the room on him, but still desiring to know more. He finally pronounced, quietly but deliberately. "…Do you think he still loves you?"

"No. Well, I don't know." Bokuto shrugged, his gaze pinned to the ground. "I think he does. But in a different way than I do. Maybe that's the issue…"

"Do you think you'll ever get over him?" Akaashi mused without malice, only genuine interest.

"I _am_ over him." Bokuto insisted. "I've been dating many other people since then and I've been happy. I'm happier having him just as a friend. Anything more than that was a mistake and it was doomed to fail."

The silence spilled over the room once more before the angel posed his final question: "If you could get back with him, would you?"

Bokuto caught his gaze and sighed. "You don't really understand love, do you?"

"Would I be asking these questions if I understood love?" Akaashi shrugged, eyes focusing on Bokuto, his voice quiet, sadder than he intended.

"They're pretty good questions, to be honest." Bokuto admitted, lowering his eyes once more. "A little invasive, but… important, I guess."

"I'm sorry if I was prying too much. Wasn't my intention." The angel only now realized that perhaps his curiosity had gone too far.

"No, it's fine." Bokuto offered him a light smile of reassurance. "I suppose you've never been in love?"

"If I have then I don't remember it." Akaashi shrugged, all but successfully pretending that he didn't care for his lost memories. "But it does feel familiar, somehow."

"Hey, maybe that's it." Bokuto grinned, his eyes meeting the angel's once more. "Maybe you used to be an angel of love of some sorts? You'd watch over people falling in love and made sure they were happy?"

"I think that's just a little too sweet to be true." The angel winced. "Besides, wouldn't I know more about love if that were the case?"

"See, but maybe you wouldn't." Bokuto pointed a finger at him. "Maybe you'd understand the struggles of people in love and maybe you'd help them, but having never experienced love yourself, you wouldn't be able to fully grasp the concept and how it works in practice."

"I'm sorry, but that's so… sappy." Akaashi shook his head with a sigh.

"Sappy is good." Bokuto shrugged with a light pout.

"I'm not saying it's bad." The angel noted. "Just unlikely."

"Well, I guess." The man admitted reluctantly. "Still, better to throw it out there. Maybe we can figure out who you were just by pitching ideas? Maybe something will strike a chord?"

"It doesn't hurt to try." Akaashi agreed.

Bokuto soon extended his hand to collect the owl book from the bed and the angel only covered it with his palms protectively. Bokuto chuckled and left it alone, watching as he flipped the page to another beautiful, detailed illustration of a different owl.

"You didn't tell me why you don't want to sell your art." He remarked. "Is it too time-consuming?"

"No, that's not the issue." Bokuto shook his head. "I just don't feel the need to sell my stuff. I make enough of an income without it. And I enjoy it so I prefer to I keep it as a hobby rather than making it my job. And would selling it be time-consuming… Not really. I could start a store online and sell prints of my art or sell the designs to existing stores and get a commission from their sales, but yeah, I just don't feel like it."

"I'm not quite sure I follow you." Akaashi squinted. "What's an online store and what exactly do you mean by 'prints'?"

"Right, sorry." Bokuto chuckled. "I sometimes forget that… yeah, anyway." He shook his head. "An online store is a store you can access through your computer – like my laptop. A store has all the items in its stock listed on their website, so you can select what you want to buy, give them your credit card or bank account details and they charge you the money and send your order through the post. Am I making sense or is this just gibberish to you?"

"No, it's fine, I think I get it." Akaashi assured. "It sounds like something that requires a lot of trust. I mean, what if they take your money and never send you what you want?"

"Yeah, that's something that people were initially afraid of when online stores become a thing." Bokuto recalled. "But everyone soon realized that it's way more profitable and way more convenient to just be honest about all the sales and have a good reputation rather than stealing a few people's money and disappearing."

"Sounds fair enough." Akaashi nodded. "And 'prints'?"

"Prints are just art prints." Bokuto shrugged as though it was obvious. "Like, you scan your art onto your computer, clean it up in an image editing software and then you have your basic design. From there, you can print it on shirts, mugs, stickers, posters, phone cases – anything you want, really. People can order the design they want on the object they want – like, let's say a horned owl on a poster – and that's how you make money. Simple, right?"

"Uh, not really." The angel blinked in confusion. "What are 'phone cases'? Anyway, I understand prints. I think. Just the rest of the words are a bit… strange."

Bokuto quickly realized that explaining things to someone who had only partial understanding of the modern world was more difficult than he initially assumed.

They went through a few of the contemporary inventions that Bokuto had never put much thought into until the angel was satisfied with the newly gained knowledge. The man stretched his arms once they were done.

"I'll add it all to the list of things you don't know." Bokuto smiled lightly and tapped the silver lid of the laptop that lay beside his futon.

"Do add something to the list of things I know, too." Akaashi insisted. "Like water colors and… other things."

"Alright, we'll add them." The man promised, rising to his feet. "Let's change the dressing now, okay?"

Akaashi nodded lightly, by now all but used to the unpleasant necessity.

When Bokuto unraveled the bandages, he sounded happy. "Hey. It's looking good!"

"Please describe 'good' in this context." The angel asked, turning his head in his direction.

"Well, you're not bleeding anymore, so I think that's good." Bokuto argued. "It's just a large scab now."

"I see." Akaashi sighed figuratively, laying his head back on the pillow. "Time for the antiseptic?"

"Yeah." Bokuto confirmed quietly. "Sorry if it hurts."

It did hurt and Akaashi couldn't quite imagine ever waking up without any pain in his back, but it was substantially lighter than before. He clenched his teeth, breathed deeply and somehow managed to survive until the end of the procedure.

"Everything okay?" Bokuto shifted before he wrapped him in the fresh dressing so that the angel could see him.

Akaashi nodded.

The man smiled.

Akaashi quirked his lips lightly in response.

Bokuto chuckled and returned to Akaashi's back, the gauze and the bandages.

Once the wound was tended to, he sat by the edge of the bed, folded his arms on the mattress and rested his chin atop them.

"You're getting better, Akaashi." He spoke with an unhidden grin. "I'm so happy."

"It's all thanks to you, Bokuto-san." The angel insisted.

"Not at all!" Bokuto shook his head vigorously. "It's your body that's doing all the effort. I'm just cheering on you from the sidelines."

"Still. I appreciate the cheering." Akaashi attempted a small smile.

Bokuto only brought their foreheads together with a light, celebratory laugh.

Akaashi appreciated the closeness.

He found it sweet how hopeful Bokuto was. Because the angel wasn't all that better – he still felt dizzy, he was rather sure he wouldn't be able to walk on his own and his appetite was difficult to find. His back still hurt, albeit less than before. He still lacked a wing, remembered nothing, and had nowhere to go and none of these seemed like they were going to change, even after his wound would close.

Yet Bokuto's optimism was refreshing, on some level even pleasant, even if Akaashi considered it uncalled for and naïve. Perhaps all he needed was some baseless positivity, some happy thoughts to tether him to hope, to a future, which so far he was convinced he wouldn't have. Bokuto made him want to try. Bokuto made him want to think that maybe one day the ache in his body and mind alike would fade. Bokuto made him want to believe that maybe there was a life waiting for him once all of this was over.

A cynical part of Akaashi wanted to laugh at these realizations. He was hardly in a position to think about the future when he barely had a present – or what he had was filled with pain, emptiness, sleep and not much more. But a part of him clung to the hope that Bokuto held. Because after all, he wasn't alone, and Bokuto had proved more than competent at comforting him, taking his mind off his sad state, as well as researching about what he might be and where he might come from. If Bokuto saw the sense in all of this, Akaashi felt that perhaps there really was a point to it all. Perhaps, with his help he would have a future.

Once Bokuto pulled away, he asked a question far more mundane than the angel's current considerations: "What would you say for breakfast?"

"Breakfast would be nice." Akaashi admitted with a light nod. He wasn't hungry but he knew he had to eat. He knew his efforts would make Bokuto happy, which would be a pleasant addition to improved nutrition.

The bright smile Bokuto offered him upon hearing this all but returned him his appetite.

"Alright, then give me a moment." The man asked, getting up from the floor.

"Wait." Akaashi pleaded softly. "I have a bit of a weird request."

"Yeah?" Bokuto tilted his head in curiosity.

"Could I… touch your hair?" The angel winced, aware of the silliness of the question.

"Right now? Sure." Bokuto chuckled, but took it in his stride and knelt by the bed once more.

Akaashi slowly reached out, hesitation still reflected in his eyes; so much so that Bokuto leaned into his touch.

His hair was unexpectedly soft, for all its volume and apparent spikiness. The angel slowly ran his hand through it and noticed a surprising lack of tangles. Despite its somewhat intimidating appearance, Akaashi felt like it was actually really fluffy.

After a short while, he finally retracted his hand. "Thank you." He nodded.

"The pleasure's all mine." Bokuto laughed, casually pushing his fingers through his disheveled hair.

For the first time since he'd found himself in Bokuto's apartment, the angel allowed himself a short, genuine laugh. It helped him more than he thought was possible.

* * *

 

Once they had eaten (Akaashi having eaten more than usual, as Bokuto gladly noted), they remained in Bokuto's bedroom, discussing more inventions, realities and concepts of the contemporary world and continuing their research. They spoke more than on any of the previous days and their conversations were fueled less by grief and more by some newly found motivation on Akaashi's part. Bokuto was glad to observe the change, although its source remained unknown to him.

Morning soon turned to afternoon and Bokuto found himself eating lunch over his laptop, every once in a while glancing at Akaashi who seemed captivated by his owl book, reading it from the beginning, always dedicating time to take in every single illustration.

"You've taken a liking to it, haven't you?" Bokuto noticed with a smile.

"It's a really pretty book." Akaashi admitted. "Though I don't understand half of the written text."

"Don't worry, neither do I and I have a degree in this stuff." Bokuto laughed and was happy to notice the tiny smirk on the angel's lips.

"Reassuring." He nodded with what sounded like a chuckle.

The man couldn't help noticing that Akaashi was far more pleasant and sociable when he wasn't in pain. Bokuto felt the discovery should have been more obvious than it turned out to be. He had given him a painkiller before preparing lunch and the angel was more animated than ever before. For the first time since he found Akaashi, the angel seemed to put his mind to more than simply his own misery. Bokuto hoped it was yet another proof of his recovery.

"Hey Akaashi, I was wondering," Bokuto began once he finished his meal and set his dishes aside. "Now that you're feeling better, would you like to take a bath or something?"

"Are you implying that I smell?" The angel raised one eyebrow in mild offense.

"I'm implying that good personal hygiene can speed up recovery." He winked tentatively, trying to cover up his sudden intimidation at Akaashi's remark. "Probably. I don't really know, medical sciences were never really my thing."

"I admit that it would be nice to feel clean again." The angel rolled his shoulders. "But I doubt I'd manage. I'm still too weak."

"I could help." Bokuto offered with a shrug.

"Help me shower?" Akaashi blinked before furrowing his brow. "I'm not sure about that. That's just a little more humiliation than I can take."

"Why humiliation?" Bokuto's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Are you ashamed of being naked or…?"

"I already feel like a cripple." The angel admitted quietly. "Having someone wash me would only make me feel more helpless."

Bokuto inhaled slowly, giving himself a moment to think. "I get where you're coming from."

"But?" Akaashi added expectantly.

"But what?" Bokuto tilted his head.

"You get where I'm coming from but you still insist I take a shower." The angel completed the sentence. "That's where this is going, isn't it?"

"No, why?" Bokuto blinked. "It was just a suggestion, if you don't want it then that's that. I won't force you to take a bath – you're not a child. And if it makes you uncomfortable then I have even less reason to insist."

Akaashi stared at him for a longer moment. "Wow."

"What?" Bokuto raised his eyebrows in question.

"You're more considerate than I initially assumed." The angel pronounced. "I stand corrected."

"Rude." The man pouted.

"It was a compliment." Akaashi insisted.

"Great delivery then." Bokuto rolled his eyes before chuckling. "I'm not actually upset, you know."

"I'm aware. But this exchange was sort of amusing." The angel admitted with the tiniest smirk.

Bokuto laughed. "Agreed."

He soon returned to his research and Akaashi continued flipping through his book until he broke the silence with a tentative: "I may be interested in that bath after all."

"Really?" Bokuto widened his eyes lightly.

"Yeah." Akaashi shrugged. "I don't have much left in the way of dignity and I feel sticky. I'd rather just be clean than cling to whatever pride I have left."

"In that case," Bokuto placed his laptop on the bedside table. "I'll go draw the bath."

"Wait." Akaashi called for the second time that day. "You'll bathe with me, right?"

"If that's what you want." Bokuto blinked in surprise. "Yeah, sure."

"Yeah." The angel nodded. "I'll see you in a moment."

"Yeah." Bokuto smiled. "See you in a bit."

* * *

 

Once the bathtub was filled, Bokuto returned to the bedroom to pick Akaashi up and help him walk to the bathroom. He approached him from his wingless side and held him by the waist, taking step by slow step, making sure that the angel could follow him at his own unstable pace.

Once they reached the bathroom, Akaashi managed to stand on his own, holding onto the sink with one hand and the wall with the other.

"We leave our clothes here, then go through that door." Bokuto pointed to the glass door on the other side of the tiled room. "There we shower, then take a bath. Sounds okay?"

Akaashi nodded, turned around and began removing his trousers and underwear. He woke up without a shirt, and judging by the memory of the cold outside, he never had a shirt in the first place. He figured he couldn't have worn one anyway – they didn't accommodate wings. He non-committedly pondered what angels wore where he came from.

Once he was naked, he attempted to cover himself and turned to look at Bokuto. He quickly noticed that the man wasn't going to bother himself with being shy with his body. When he glanced at him, Akaashi felt his dizziness returned and realized that he would need his hands to keep himself standing and reluctantly raised them from his groin back to the sink.

Akaashi knew there was a mirror above the sink. He needed a moment to consider whether he wanted to see the freak he'd become. He didn't want to look at himself. And yet, as though in some kind of self-administered punishment, he forced himself to look at the reflection.

What he saw was nothing short of sad. Hollow cheeks, tired eyes, pale skin…

 _Missing wing_.

He turned his head away in disgust.

"What's wrong?" Bokuto had noticed.

"Nothing." The angel shook his head quickly. "Let's just go."

"Do you hate what you see?" Akaashi suddenly hated how perceptive the man could be.

"Yes." He answered honestly.

"Why? You're beautiful." Bokuto insisted simply.

"You must be kidding." The angel attempted to scoff but his voice sounded more like a sob. He pointed to his remaining wing, stretched it as far as the size of the room allowed him. "This is the only beautiful part left of me. That's all."

He felt his back shake, his wing trembling. He felt that his muscles were beginning to fade. Or perhaps he was simply that weak. He folded his wing before Bokuto could speak again.

"I disagree." The man spoke firmly, gently turning Akaashi's chin with his fingers so that he could see himself in the mirror. "There's more to you than that."

"Bokuto-san, I'm either a broken angel or a deformed human being." He dropped his gaze to the sink and raised his voice, suddenly feeling the tightness of tears in his throat. "I'm a-"

"You're not." Bokuto assured before he could even pronounce the word. "You're Akaashi. And you're fine the way you are."

"I think both of us know that's a lie." Akaashi argued, looking up at Bokuto, feeling the all too familiar burn of tears in his eyes. "You know that I won't be able to live normally like this."

"I know you'll find a way." Bokuto attempted an encouraging smile. "And I know that panicking and worrying about the future won't help us. Let's just think about those things when the time comes."

Akaashi felt like the words were empty, as though Bokuto was only echoing something that he'd been told in the past. He was right – that was the rational approach. And yet, they didn't help much.

"And I do think you're really handsome." The man admitted, his back turned as he headed towards the glass door.

"According to you." Akaashi clipped cynically.

"Yeah, it's just my opinion." Bokuto shrugged and faced him once more. "But I think it wouldn't hurt to think of yourself that way. Maybe that's just me but I don't think you gain anything from thinking negatively about yourself."

"Sometimes it's not a thing you can control." The angel argued.

"I know, trust me." Bokuto insisted. Akaashi suddenly realized that there was something incredibly sympathetic about his entire demeanor. "But sometimes, it's good to try."

Akaashi took a deep breath, nodded and stepped closer. "I'm fine. Let's shower."

"Okay." Bokuto agreed and led him through the glass door.

On the other side waited a bath full of steaming water, a shower hose on the wall, a small basket of cosmetics and a small plastic stool. Akaashi welcomed the stool with relief and sat down before his head could start spinning particularly badly.

Meanwhile Bokuto grasped the shower head and began turning the knob on the wall. "Hey." His voice prompted the angel to turn his eyes to him. "Stick your hand out and tell me if it's too hot."

Akaashi complied but found himself quickly drawing his hand back. "Too hot."

Bokuto turned the knob in the other direction. "How about now?"

"Better." Akaashi nodded.

"Alright." Bokuto exhaled. "I'll rinse you down quickly and then we'll move on to the soap and whatnot?"

"Okay." The angel agreed. He felt like the step by step explanations of what Bokuto would do were unnecessary and yet he appreciated how the man informed him of everything. There was a certain comfort in knowing and Akaashi was glad that Bokuto was so cautious.

Akaashi closed his eyes and leaned forward. He soon felt the warm water hit his hair, slide down his neck, splash on his chest and limbs. He forgot how good it felt to be doused in water, the filth of the past few days slowly flowing down the drain. He was surprised when Bokuto ran a hand through his hair but he didn't stop him. Whether he was attempting to wash it or simply felt like touching it, the gentle caress felt pleasant, especially in combination with the warmth of the water. He reveled in its comfort until he could no longer hear the droplets hitting the tiles of the floor.

He now felt that familiar cold when one's wet body felt like the surroundings were much colder than they really were. He shivered briefly, suddenly becoming aware that his back was still dry. He looked up at Bokuto, who seemed to have been thinking about the same thing.

"I wasn't sure if I can pour water over your wing." He explained briefly. "Besides, I think it would be best to try and keep the wound dry."

Akaashi nodded in understanding. He wondered why the man hadn't told him to remove the bandages but he now figured that it would prevent any moisture from entering the injury.

Bokuto soon passed him a bottle with an opened cap. "Shower gel." He named it. "I'll wash your back and you'll take care of the rest."

The angel extended his hands and Bokuto poured the milky white liquid into his open palms.

When Bokuto sat down on the ground behind him, Akaashi was surprised with how gentle his hands were. He massaged his shoulders lightly, then slowly ran his hand down his spine nearing neither his wound nor his wing until he reached his waist, which he too, carefully covered in the lather. Akaashi all but forgot to wash the rest of his body as he focused on the kind touch on his back.

"Can I wash the area around your wing too?" Bokuto asked tentatively. "It's not, like, really sensitive or anything, right?"

"You can." Akaashi agreed. That particular area was firmer than the rest of his body so Bokuto's guess had been off. And yet, when the man ran his hand right around the space where the wing connected to his back the angel found himself closing his eyes, breathing deeper, thoroughly appreciating the careful treatment. He all but missed his touch when Bokuto finally stood up and reached for the showerhead once more.

"Ready?" The man asked.

"Yeah." Akaashi sighed, having miraculously managed to lather the rest of his body up while Bokuto worked on his back.

"Do you mind if we get the wing wet? I got some soap on it." The man wondered apologetically.

"I don't mind. I can't fly anyway." Akaashi shrugged. He meant to make the cynical remark casual and yet it felt like a punch to the stomach, echoing with pain in his chest. He closed his eyes and only waited for the blessing of the warm water to conceal his suffering. Bokuto indulged him and he focused only on the sensation of water on his skin, trickling down his arms, skimming down his feathers. It helped his muscles relax and his mind followed suit, as best as it could. To the angel's great disappointment, the stream of water was gone all too soon.

"You can enter the bath now." Bokuto nudged him on the shoulder.

"What about you?" Akaashi raised his gaze.

"I'll wash myself while I'm at it and join you in a moment, okay?" The man explained.

"Okay." Akaashi nodded. "Could you help me up?"

Bokuto wasted no time in helping him stand. Akaashi wouldn't have usually asked, but considering the wetness of the floor, he was afraid of slipping, falling and most likely injuring himself even further, especially in his dizziness.

As he stepped into the bathtub, he realized that he wouldn't be able to sit down properly due to the likeliness of water touching his wound. He settled for kneeling, one of his hand gripping the edge, the other resting on the bottom of the tub. His remaining wing spilled over the edge and partly rested on the ground.

And in that moment, he realized how ridiculous he looked – an injured angel, crammed into a small bathtub, the remnants of his greatest pride wet and brushing against the floor like a mere rag. He covered his eyes and fought back the tears that threatened to spill from under his eyelids. Oh, how low he had fallen.

He took a deeper breath, trying to calm himself and glanced up at Bokuto. With a slight start, he realized that this was the first time he was seeing the man's bare back. There would have been nothing odd about it if not for the scars.

Bokuto had scars on his back, faded with time, but nonetheless large and clear - pale lines on one of his shoulder blades. They were similar lengths, all facing in the same direction. More than anything, they were wide. Akaashi had no idea where they had come from but from their width alone he could tell that they weren't caused by blades. He couldn't help pondering their source.

Soon enough, he stopped looking, covered his eyes once more and returned to pitying himself. His wet wing, weighed down by the water only made him feel like one side of his body was too light. He hated how many reminders he got of his sorry state. He knew his condition very well – the universe didn't need to repeat the painful truth to him on every possible occasion.

A part of him wanted to believe that it was all a dream, that eventually he would wake up and everything would be as it was. A part of him wanted to believe that this was temporary, that he would get his wing back at some point. A part of him wanted to believe that there was still something he could do, something with which he could redeem himself and return home.

But a different part of him had begun to believe that none of these options were possible, and that it was pointless to think about them. He had even begun to think that Bokuto's research – which yielded little so far – would essentially be useless in the long run. He was slowly beginning to think that he didn't even care about his past, about how he had ended up on Earth without a wing, and about what he would do from now on. That part of him only wanted peace – whatever that would entail.

"I'm coming in." Bokuto announced, stepping into the bathtub.

Akaashi only felt the water level rise and repositioned himself accordingly but didn't bother raising the hand from his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" The man asked in concern.

"Everything is wrong." Akaashi only sobbed in response.

"Hey." Bokuto pronounced softly and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't cry. Everything will be fine, sooner or later."

"Easier said than done." The angel sighed, wiping his eyes and lowering his hand. "And I doubt anything will be fine."

"I know it will." Bokuto insisted. "Would you believe me if I told you that it gets better? I know from personal experience. I know things are looking terrible right now, but it _will_ get better someday."

Akaashi blinked and caught the man's gaze. Later when he thought about it, he couldn't explain why he said it, but at the time, he felt like the remark was justified. "Is that personal experience somehow related to those scars on your back?"

Any sign of cheer immediately vanished from the man's face as he gripped his shoulder and glared at Akaashi with fear in his eyes. "You saw them."

"Yes." The angel admitted, suddenly feeling guilty. He had made Bokuto look like a cornered animal. That was never his intention. And yet, he wanted to know more. "Can you tell me about them?"

"No." Bokuto shook his head, letting his hands fall back into the water. He sighed. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Did someone hurt you?" Akaashi asked anyway. He decided it would be his last question. He only wanted to know that one thing.

"I was in a bad place. That's all I can say." He spoke quietly, eyes focused on the water, somehow seeming smaller than usual. "Please don't ask about them." His tone was kind. "It's still a little too much for me."

"I'm sorry." The angel apologized, realizing his mistake. "I didn't know."

"I'm not upset." Bokuto assured but the sad tone in his voice suggested otherwise. "Just… give me time, please."

"Okay." Akaashi nodded in understanding. He thought of a lighter topic to lift the heavy atmosphere. "Do you often bathe with people?"

Bokuto offered him a warm smile – a sign of appreciation for a change in the topic. Akaashi only nodded. He wanted Bokuto to know that he didn't intend to make him feel uncomfortable.

"Not that often these days." Bokuto answered, slowly relaxing. "Not like this, at least."

"And by 'like this' you mean…?" Akaashi wondered.

"Platonically. Usually it's more…" The man suddenly became aware that what he was about to say wasn't the most appropriate thing for the setting where both of them were naked and sitting right across from one another. "Well, not platonic."

"I see." Akaashi understood the implication. His eyes caught sight of Bokuto's hand resting on the edge of the tub. He placed his own hand in front of his and slowly made it inch forward. "Do you enjoy it even when it's platonic?"

"Well, a bath is a bath – it's always pleasant." He shrugged, before feeling the angel's fingertips connecting with his fingers. He slid his own hand forward, making their fingers intertwine. "Though I always appreciate good company."

Akaashi smiled – smiled properly for the first time since the night when everything changed – and squeezed Bokuto's hand tighter. "I'm glad you were the one to find me."

Bokuto's mouth fell agape before it turned into a wide grin. "Thank you."

Akaashi laughed at his dumbfound expression. "Thank you, too."

He was grateful to the man for many things.

At the current moment – for managing to cheer him up when he felt worse than he had in the past few days.

* * *

 

It wasn't long before Akaashi found himself back in bed – clean, relaxed, feeling a little better about himself, a fresh dressing covering his wound.

"Bokuto-san, do you mind if I take a nap?" he asked before a yawn split his lips.

"Go ahead." Bokuto smiled. "I'll keep looking for information online, alright?"

"Yeah." Akaashi agreed, laying his head in a comfortable spot on the pillow. "Thank you."

"Always welcome." Bokuto assured, pulling a blanket over the angel's legs. "I'll see you in a bit."

Akaashi only nodded, already drifting to sleep.

Bokuto watched him for a longer while before returning to the article in his browser.

They had only held hands in the bathtub and yet Bokuto felt more satisfied than he had been in years. He knew he should ascribe no special meaning to the action, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the thought of the contact. He was glad they had taken the bath together – it had reassured him that Akaashi trusted him and that he himself could help the angel in more ways than he initially thought of. More than anything, for the first time ever, the angel seemed to be somewhat happy. That alone had made everything worth it, in Bokuto's mind. He didn't know what the future would bring but at least now he had the faith that both of them would find a way to deal with whatever came next.

He wasn't quite prepared for what did come next.

It started off innocently enough.

About four hours into his nap, Akaashi began turning in his sleep, groaning in what Bokuto assumed was a nightmare. It took him a few pats on the shoulder but he finally managed to wake him up. When the angel opened his eyes, he looked disoriented.

"Are you okay?" Bokuto asked.

Akaashi only blinked and nodded.

"How do you feel?" The man followed up.

"A bit… weird." Akaashi admitted. "Slow, somehow. I feel like my head is beginning to hurt."

Bokuto furrowed his brow and pressed a palm to the angel's forehead. "You're warm again."

"Feverish?" The angel asked, his eyes clearly hoping that the answer would be no.

"Yeah." Bokuto admitted sadly. "I'll bring you a pill, okay? Then you'll go back to sleep and once you wake up you should feel better."

Once Akaashi had swallowed the drug and laid back down, he looked at Bokuto with dread in his eyes. "You'll stay with me, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be right here." The man smiled reassuringly and gestured at the futon behind him.

"Okay." The angel nodded and closed his eyes.

Bokuto placed a hand in his hair and stroked down his head, hoping that it would help him fall asleep. Akaashi leaned into his touch and did just that.

Bokuto was glad that even something as small as his touch could help the angel.

He was certain the fever was nothing to fear, that Akaashi would wake up the next morning feeling better than before.

He was wrong.

It was very early morning when Akaashi woke him up.

"Bokuto-san." He called, voice quiet but desperate.

"Yeah?" The man was up in an instant, turning on the lamp on the bedside table.

Akaashi's face easily betrayed his pain.

"I don't feel well." The angel only managed to pronounce with a quiet sob before throwing up on the floor. There wasn't much in his stomach but that didn't stop his body from convulsing and dry heaving once he had run out of fluid to vomit.

"Okay, breathe." Bokuto commanded, getting to his feet and bringing the tissue box from his desk to the angel's side, partly speaking to himself. "Breathe, Akaashi. Just breathe. Focus on breathing, okay?"

Akaashi only looked at him, his eyes begging for help as his body refused to listen to him.

"It's okay. It's okay." Bokuto only chanted, wiping the mess from Akaashi's face. "But breathe, okay? Breathe."

After a moment of uneven breaths, the angel managed to reclaim some control, taking deep, even inhales and exhales, his eyes focused on Bokuto's the entire time.

"Yes, good." The man assured. "Keep breathing, okay? Do you feel like you'll get sick again?"

Akaashi took a moment to think, then shook his head.

"Okay." Bokuto breathed. "I'll bring you some water and then we'll think of what to do, okay?"

"Yes." The angel forced himself to pronounce, his voice rough, ruined by the heaving. "Bokuto-san." He began quietly, hesitant whether he should ask the question that appeared in his mind. "Is this a bad sign?"

"I don't know." Bokuto admitted. "I hope not. It doesn't need to be a bad sign. It's best if we stay calm and not jump to conclusions. I'll be back in a moment."

Bokuto rushed to the kitchen, placed a glass under the faucet, opened the tap and promptly folded upon himself until he was sitting on the floor, his head between his legs, hyperventilating. "God, no." he whispered to himself. "Please, no. Please let it be nothing serious. Please."

He wanted to cry but he soon heard Akaashi calling him back. He quickly wiped his face, closed the tap, picked up the glass, spilled some of its contents on the floor and put on a smile with which he hoped to calm Akaashi once he was back in the room.

"Here." He passed him the glass and watched him take small sips in mild relief. The feeling faded as soon as he touched his forehead. He felt even hotter than before. That was not a good sign.

He busied himself with mopping the floor and preparing some ice for Akaashi's fever. He didn't know what else there was to do.

"Do you think you'll be able to fall asleep?" he asked the angel softly as he placed the small bag of ice on his forehead.

"Yeah." Akaashi confirmed, a light shiver passing through his body from the ice.

"Okay." Bokuto forced a reassuring smile. "I'll be right here, so call me if you need me."

Akaashi nodded lightly and closed his eyes.

Bokuto pulled his laptop out, knowing he wouldn't be sleeping. He was too anxious and wanted some hints as to what his next move should be. He hoped to find them on the internet.

* * *

 

When Bokuto woke up it was before noon. His neck felt stiff from having fallen asleep while sitting, but the first thing he could think of was Akaashi. He stepped closer to the bed and noticed that he was still asleep, his breath even. All that was left of the ice was a plastic bag full of water and a wet stain on the pillow. He prayed that the ice was enough.

When he pressed his palm to the angel's forehead, he knew that it wasn't.

He immediately headed to the kitchen, threw the bag in the freezer and picked up another portion of ice that he prepared at night. He found one more mold in one of the cabinets, quickly filled it with water and placed it in the freezer. He thought that perhaps if he could chill multiple parts of Akaashi's body at once, the fever would subside.

Returning from the kitchen, he brought another glass of water. He knew that staying hydrated would help Akaashi make it through this crisis. But for that he would have to wake him up.

That wasn't as easy as he initially assumed it would be.

It took him five minutes of patting and shaking to finally get him to open his eyes.

"Akaashi." He finally gasped in relief. "I brought you water. You need to drink a lot."

"I'm not thirsty." The angel rasped, tired, listless, barely keeping eye contact.

"Akaashi, I don't care." Bokuto insisted desperately. "You need to drink. Here."

He extended the cup in his hand. The angel attempted to raise his hand but couldn't even summon that much power. "I can't." he whispered simply.

"I'll help you." Bokuto offered, kneeling beside him, lifting him so that he wouldn't choke as he poured the water into his mouth.

The angel moaned in discomfort as he moved him. "It hurts."

"I'm sorry." Bokuto apologized. "But you need to drink. Please."

He blinked at him for a moment before finally opening his lips. Bokuto tilted the glass slowly, making sure the angel had enough time to swallow. At least a fifth of the glass ended up trickling down his chin, but the rest traveled to his stomach, just as Bokuto had intended. This would have to be good enough for now. He lay Akaashi back down so as not to cause him any more unnecessary pain.

The angel watched him for a moment before his eyes filled with tears and he bit his lip. "Am I dying?" he asked quietly, staring right into Bokuto's eyes.

"You're not." He assured firmly but he knew that tears were gathering in his own eyes, his optimistic façade not ready for such a sudden attack. "You're not dying." He insisted with a helpless sob. "I promise."

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi smiled sadly. "You're not very good with promises."

"Don't say that." Bokuto wept now. "You're not dying. Don't even say that. I won't let you die."

"Good." Tears ran down his red cheeks. "Because I don't want to die."

With that, he lost consciousness.

Bokuto was left to cry all alone, his body shaking beside the bed, his hand stroking Akaashi's cheek.

He wouldn't let him die.

But there was so little he could do.

He placed more ice on the angel.

At the very least, he would not let the fever claim him.

* * *

 

He roused him three more times that day, feeding him a glass of water each time.

Each time, it was harder to wake him up.

Despite having placed three bags of ice on different parts of his body and pressing a cold, wet towel to his head, the fever didn't seem to be giving up.

He changed his towel and his ice late into the night.

Watching his flushed features by the light of the bedside lamp he wondered whether the angel would still be there the next time he woke up or whether he would be the first to witness a winged corpse in his bed.

He didn't want to accept the second option and yet he knew that it could soon become a reality.

If only he could take him to a hospital.

He told himself that if nothing improved by the end of the next day, he would call an ambulance.

It was dangerous but at least he could be helped at the ER. Doctors could help him much more than Bokuto ever could. But still, he clung to the hope that Akaashi's body could fight the fever off on its own.

"Live." He told the angel as he watched him, hunched by the bed. "Live."

He fell asleep feeling the heat radiating from the angel's body.

* * *

 

When he woke up, Akaashi was still alive.

He thanked the gods.

He soon realized that perhaps he shouldn't have.

He changed his ice and his towel, but after a good ten minutes of patting, Akaashi was not coming awake.

Desperately, he tried to lift him, hoping that he could somehow wake him up that way.

Akaashi woke up screaming, and Bokuto immediately put him down. The angel began crying, unabashed, loud tears. "It hurts." Were the only words Bokuto could understand.

"Do you think you can sit?" Bokuto pleaded.

Akaashi only shook his head, digging his nails into the sheets.

"Is it that bad?" Bokuto asked, feeling like a fool.

The angel nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"You need to drink." He insisted anyway.

"I can't." Akaashi managed to produce.

"You'll dehydrate otherwise." Bokuto explained tentatively, attempting to be rational, hoping it would be enough to convince him.

"Too bad." The angel seemed to shrug before groaning in pain. "I can't move. I just can't."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Bokuto felt tears welling in his eyes, asking more himself than Akaashi.

The angel seemed to have an answer for that. He grabbed the hand that Bokuto rested on the bed and wrapped his fingers around his neck, ignoring the pain for that brief moment. "Kill me."

"No!" Bokuto pulled his hand away immediately. "You said you didn't want to die."

"But I _am_ dying. You know it." Akaashi sobbed. "If I'm going to die anyway then I want it sooner than later."

Bokuto shook his head.

"Please." The angel begged. "If my choice is slowly dying in excruciating pain or a quick death then I know what I choose."

"What about me?" Bokuto cried. "Do I not get a choice?"

"No." Akaashi barked. "I'm sorry, but no."

"I won't kill you." The man spoke firmly. "I'm not changing my mind."

"I hate you." Akaashi sobbed, pressing his face to his pillow.

"I'm sorry." Bokuto cried, walking out of the room, closing the door behind him.

After a few minutes, the weeping in his bedroom had died down.

Bokuto was afraid to see what he would find when he entered the room.

He only found Akaashi, still breathing, still feverish, his cheeks wet, unconscious on his bed.

The fever wasn't as bad as it had been previously and Bokuto continued his ice treatment, but he knew that if the angel refused to drink, dehydration would become a serious issue.

He didn't know what to do and his legs hurt from the constant pacing around his room.

Finally, he decided to remove the dressing and check on the wound – on the thing that must have been causing the angel so much pain, on the one thing that he hoped would simply solve itself on its own.

The wound had hardly solved itself on its own.

The scab that had previously formed had now cracked open, puss and blood leaking from the swollen injury. Bokuto sprayed it with the antiseptic, but he knew that the product wouldn't help much at this point. There was simply nothing else he could do. But this only woke the angel once more and began another long few minutes of labored sobbing from Akaashi.

The man repeated the procedure a few times throughout the day, and each time, the angel woke. He would no longer speak to Bokuto, only cry, his wet eyes staring at him and judging him whenever they were open.

Bokuto tried to get him to drink on multiple occasions, but to no avail.

The only good news was that the fever stopped rising. Bokuto kept placing ice and cold towels on the angel and he didn't oppose, didn't try to throw them off whenever he was awake. Bokuto hoped this meant that he hadn't entirely given up.

He hoped that the pain would fade, that he could get Akaashi to sit up and drink soon enough, that they could get through this just by waiting and doing their best.

He fell asleep watching him in the night with that hope.

* * *

 

In the early morning of the third day of Akaashi's fever, Bokuto woke up to the angel's wheezing and the distinct smell of rot in the air.

He looked at his struggling for breath for a moment before reaching for his phone. He knew he had no choice. This was no longer something that 'waiting' could fix.

And yet, he hesitated.

He shook the angel lightly, having enough luck to wake him, to ease his breathing.

Akaashi looked at him with red eyes that looked like they wanted to cry but had run out of tears.

"Akaashi." He pronounced his name softly, forcing himself not to cry, not yet. "I... I might know someone who can help you. Do you want me to get them?"

"Yes." The angel sobbed quietly. "Please."

"Okay." Bokuto stood up, heading towards the door. "Wait here."

When the door closed behind him, Bokuto sat down on the floor, dialed the familiar number and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Yeah? What's up?" a tired voice asked from the speaker.

"Kuroo." Bokuto wept, no longer hiding his tears. "Kuroo, help me. I fucked up."

"Jesus Christ, Bokuto." The voice immediately came alive. "What happened? Where are you?"

"Home." He sobbed. "There's a dying man with an infected wound on his back on my bed and I can't call an ambulance. Please, help me."

"Fucking hell." Kuroo swore, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I'll be there in ten. Is he awake?"

"I think so." Bokuto wiped his cheeks.

Kuroo sighed, fabric rustling into the microphone. "Stay with him. And stay on the line with me. I'll need to know what exactly happened."

Bokuto would spend the next ten minutes clinging to Akaashi's hand.

Akaashi would spend it clinging to Bokuto's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on that note... see you in a few weeks. :')
> 
> This is a pretty large development in the story so I'll appreciate any and all feedback.
> 
> Thank you for reading, hope you have a great week and I'll see you soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's been 2 months since I last updated this. Well, good news is that I'm still here and this fic is still going. :)
> 
> I've just been really busy with uni, life and having a writing slump so that probably explains it.
> 
> Regardless, I felt new motivation flowing through me as I wrote this, and it may not be a long chapter but I'm excited to add to this fic again and to share it with you guys!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! ^^
> 
> Trigger warnings: Descriptions of wounds, medical procedures, and suicidal thoughts

Akaashi had been a fool for thinking that he had a future.

It was as though the moment he began seeing beyond the present day, the universe had to remind him that he may not have a tomorrow.

As though believing that there might be a life for him when he got better was a punishable crime on its own.

That was what he thought as he lay there for three days with the fever.

It was a cruel awakening to reality – the reality in which he wouldn't be given a future.

* * *

He knew something was wrong the moment he threw up, and it wasn't simply his stomach.

The wound on his back began to itch, but differently to how it did before. There was something positive about it before, something that slowly made the pain shrink, that made him want to move, that, in some small way, made him want to live.

The new itch was the opposite – all but paralyzing, filling his mind, sleep being his only escape from the discomfort.

As he waited, unable to scratch, hoping that the itch would pass on its own, it turned into a flame instead, a steadily rising burn that spread through his body, infected his mind, crawled all over his skin, smothered the breath in his lungs.

That was when he understood that there was no hope for him.

The pain emanating from the wound on his back grew worse with each breath, each slight movement of his ribs as he inhaled and exhaled turning into another stab. He kept still, petrified by thought of how he might be torn apart otherwise. The unbearable heat engulfing his body kept knocking him unconscious and kept his mind absolutely useless when he was awake.

He could only come up with two thoughts in his brief moments of consciousness:

_It hurts_

and

_Help me_

He could focus on nothing, and stringing together a sentence and letting it pass his lips felt impossible. He was aware that he was lying on the bed and time was passing, but he had no idea how long he had laid there and how long would he still lay there.

How long before his mind left him for good, how long till his heart would give up on serving such a helpless, weak, ruined body. Judging by his absolutely broken state, Akaashi felt that it wouldn't be long.

In a flash of consciousness, he only hoped that Bokuto wouldn't be too sad when he finally passed. He was a good man, he didn't deserve the grief of losing someone to whom he tended so diligently. But there was hardly anything Akaashi could do. He figured that perhaps something could be done, but even if that were the case, he had no clue what it could entail.

He only knew that whenever he opened his eyes, Bokuto was there, either sleeping or keeping watch over him. He knew that Bokuto was responsible for the brief moments of relief when the wintery cold contained in plastic bags appeared on his body, when it actually chilled him for some time.

In those moment, when he closed his eyes, he could swear he was soaring again, the cold air high above the ground embracing him, lifting him, keeping him from falling.

When he saw those now impossible scenes, he didn't mind the fever so much. If it were to kill him anyway, at least it could show him the views he adored more than anything else, let him feel joy and peace, one last time.

But he was only at peace when unconscious. Whenever his mind pulled him awake, he was hit with the crushing pain, impatiently waiting until it reached the unbearable threshold which knocked him out once more.

Akaashi's problem began when Bokuto woke him up on purpose.

He was weak, he had no idea what the man wanted from him. He only hoped he would go about it fast and let him sink back into a far less painful state.

It turned about to be about water, of all things, about drinking. Akaashi forced himself to answer his questions, knowing that he couldn't simply remain silent. It was difficult to get the words through his parched mouth, but with great effort, he managed to express his disinterest, his inability to comply with Bokuto's request.

And yet the man went on with his _you need to drink_ , and Akaashi knew that he did, but how could he, when he hadn't even had enough power to express his helplessness in something as simple as a shrug?

He held his breath when Bokuto helped him sit. It hurt. He told him as much. The man apologized but repeated his plea. Akaashi opened his mouth because he knew he was right. He swallowed the water greedily as it entered his mouth, only then realizing how thirsty he really was.

When he was once more laying on the bed, his back pulsating with the pain, he watched Bokuto – Bokuto with his worried gaze, bags under his eyes, disheveled hair and now permanently furrowed forehead. In a moment of clarity he thought that this man who could have just left him, ignored him, pretended that he didn't exist, was now helping him drink, placing ice on his body, doing everything he could to help him survive. Tears appeared in his eyes as he realized that Bokuto's efforts would all be in vain – that he didn't _want_ them to be in vain.

With a sob and tears spilling over his eyelids, Bokuto assured him that he wasn't dying and Akaashi knew that it wasn't just his own pessimism – that Bokuto knew how dire his condition was.

As his consciousness began fading once more, Akaashi told him that he didn't want to die.

And he didn't.

But he felt like only a miracle could save him now.

* * *

Akaashi didn't know how much time had passed – only that Bokuto changed the ice on his body regularly and that he was still alive.

He also knew that Bokuto woke him up to feed him water a few more times but he did his best to gulp down the liquid and fall asleep once more before the pain could get too bad. The faster he drank, the faster he could forget that he was ever awake.

Apart from that, he knew very little.

He slept deeper, felt a little cooler, but he recorded little more than that.

Until Bokuto began trying to lift him again, and the pain of his actions pulled him awake with a startled scream, soon followed by tears and sobs as he realized that his back was only getting worse. He wondered if the fever had burned out any remaining self-control in his body, but it hardly mattered. If he had a feeling that he was dying before, now he _knew_ that he was dying through the immense pain alone.

It was far sharper than before, now not allowing him to fall back into the embrace of sleep, but keeping him awake as though some form of punishment for trying to escape his fate. He could do little more than cry and claw at the sheets in a futile attempt at bearing his suffering.

And yet his mind was clearer and as Bokuto spoke to him he found himself able to reply. He couldn't move, but he could speak. Which meant that he could ask for mercy. And so, he did.

He should had known that Bokuto would refuse. But God, was he desperate, and he hoped that the man could relieve him of the pain by simply relieving him of life as a whole. Bokuto only ended up storming out of the room, bawling.

Unable to follow him, Akaashi cried into his pillow, frustrated, in pain and feeling betrayed. But not by Bokuto – betrayed by himself. How could he have asked to be killed? He wanted to live. And yet, the will for the pain to disappear was stronger, and he felt that he would do _anything_ to make it stop already. Death was the only viable option he could think of. He sobbed, hating himself for losing hope, but failing to find any, no matter how much he berated himself.

Eventually, the crying had calmed him and he soon fell asleep once more, hoping to not wake up anytime soon.

* * *

He was awoken by the piercing sting in his back, a feeling so intense that Akaashi clearly visualized hundreds of glowing needles piercing his skin and digging deep into his flesh.

He choked on air, buried his face in his pillow to drown out his raw screams, and to somehow wipe the tears that kept flowing from his eyes. He soon recognized that pain – the cleansing type, the one that came from a liquid in a bottle and not from Akaashi's failing body itself.

He immediately knew what Bokuto was doing.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth and waited for the procedure to be over so that he could finally fall back asleep.

Bokuto finished quickly but the pain lingered. Akaashi could no longer keep himself from weeping until he tired himself out enough to let go of his consciousness.

Unfortunately, this was only the first instance of disinfection that day. Akaashi didn't count, but he knew there was more than one.

Always the same, the wet needle pain destroying him from the inside and the outside.

He wanted to hate the man, but he couldn't.

Bokuto always apologized.

It was never a mere 'sorry', always a 'forgive me', followed by a justification in a voice so small and hurt that it was as if the man could feel every last bit of his pain.

Akaashi knew he was not trying to hurt him, doing all he could to save him.

But that didn't mean that he could appreciate the added pain.

From that moment on, Akaashi stopped talking and only cried when Bokuto woke him. He felt like he had nothing new to say, that Bokuto already knew it hurt. Akaashi didn't see the point in asking Bokuto why he did what he did either. He knew the answer. He knew the man hated himself for disinfecting his wound and putting him through even deeper hell. He saw it in the man's eyes every time he sat down by the bed when he was finished, in the way he tried to hide his tears as Akaashi watched him.

Akaashi wanted to tell him that he didn't need to hide – that they could cry together.

He figured that rather than saying it, he could just go ahead and do it.

Bokuto's covering his eyes didn't change the fact that he was weeping.

Their tears didn't change the fact that Akaashi was dying.

Their broken sobs didn't change the fact that both of them were aware of this imminent truth and both could do nothing to change it.

* * *

By the third day, Akaashi was tired of sleeping, tired of crying, tired of living and tired of dying. He found breathing increasingly difficult. He felt like the end was near.

When Bokuto shook him out of his light sleep he was ready to say his goodbyes.

He would have cried if it weren't for the drought in his eyes, the effect of the flame in his body, too many tears and a too small water intake.

He could tell that Bokuto was about to cry when he said that there may be someone who can help him. Akaashi could tell that the man had fought with himself whether it was a good idea and now, pushed to the brink, knew that he had to do something, even with the threat and the potential consequences that would come from the decision. He only wanted to know if Akaashi wanted to be saved.

The answer was obvious for the angel – he didn't want to die.

Having heard his response, Bokuto soon left the room and talked to someone over the phone. Akaashi didn't listen to the details, his mind going black.

Just as he was about to fall unconscious once more, he felt a gentle pressure on his fingers.

Bokuto's hand.

Warm, but cooler than his own.

Akaashi gathered all the strength he could find in his body and squeezed Bokuto's palm.

Bokuto was his lifeline. Akaashi didn't want to let go.

* * *

After a brief explanation on the phone, followed by a few long minutes of silence and stroking down Akaashi's knuckles, Bokuto heard the doorbell and immediately rushed out to the entrance.

Kuroo was inside the apartment within a split second, the door closing behind him, his hands cupping Bokuto's cheeks as he gasped, out of breath from running up the stairs. "Kou."

It was the name Kuroo used for him back when they were still dating, the one he began using only in crisis situations after they broke up. It was a permission for Bokuto to touch him, an invitation to open up. Bokuto didn't miss a beat before wrapping his arms around his friend's back. "Tetsu." A sob spilled from his lips.

"Come here." Kuroo pronounced softly, holding him close. "You're not alone. We'll figure something out, okay? Everything will be alright."

"Okay." Bokuto whimpered, taking the opportunity to cry into Kuroo's shoulder, to finally lean on someone after days of handling everything alone. It was too much. He only wanted a moment to feel that there was still someone there for him, someone still willing to help, even when the situation felt hopeless.

"How are you holding up?" Kuroo asked, pulling away lightly, only enough to see Bokuto's reddened, wet face.

"Not great." Bokuto admitted with a sad smile. "I haven't really eaten anything in almost three days and I barely sleep because of the stress, and the fear that when I wake up, he might already be…"

"That really isn't great." Kuroo sighed sadly. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Bokuto shook his head. "But I wanted to." He whispered, a regretful confession. "I didn't do it only because then I wouldn't be able to help him. And if I was completely useless, if he died because of me then I'd…"

"It's okay. The point is you didn't do it." Kuroo assured, stroking down his back. "I'm proud."

"Don't be." Bokuto released a soft sob. "I'm risking a person's life because I'm too afraid to call an ambulance, don't be proud of me."

"Are you sure we can't call an ambulance?" Kuroo knitted his brows, and Bokuto only shook his head.

"He's not… He's not like us." Bokuto struggled to explain the one fact he purposefully avoided on the phone. "We'd be risking too much by taking him to a hospital."

Kuroo's eyes widened and he pronounced the words slowly. "Kou, please don't tell me he's from the _yakuza_."

"No, that's not it." Bokuto quickly corrected. "He's… Just know that he's different. You'll see for yourself."

He let go of Kuroo and walked over to the closed bedroom door. He placed his hand on the door knob, looked at his friend for a longer moment and bit his lip. "You won't tell anyone of this, right?"

"Why would I?" Kuroo sighed. "I won't. Promise. Now let's go. We really shouldn't keep him waiting."

"Yeah." Bokuto nodded and pushed the door open, leading Kuroo inside.

The man took two steps into the room before freezing, his eyes focused on the angel, his eyelids wide open. He blinked once, twice, then looked from Bokuto to the divine creature. "Okay, I wasn't quite prepared for that." He approached the bed. "Is he really…?"

"Why wouldn't he be? That's the issue." Bokuto whispered, joining him by the bed. "That's how all of this began."

"Who hurt him?" Kuroo turned to his friend, noticing the clear asymmetry of his back.

"We don't know." Bokuto spoke helplessly. "I found him with his wing already torn off. I thought it'd just heal on its own but…"

"Can I see it?" Kuroo asked, reaching to the thin gauze that Bokuto had placed on the wound.

"That's why you're here." Bokuto nodded, kneeling by the bed, as though bracing himself for the impact.

Kuroo hissed the moment he removed the gauze. "This is bad."

"Very bad?" Bokuto asked softly.

"Come and see for yourself." Kuroo shook his head in disbelief. "It's _bad_."

"I saw it already." Bokuto argued. "I know what it looks like. I want to know your professional opinion."

"My professional opinion is that it's bad. Beyond home treatment bad." Kuroo sighed, leaning over the wound and assessing it from different angles.

"Do you… do you think we should call an ambulance after all?" Bokuto asked softly, dejected.

"But you just said-" Kuroo's forehead wrinkled before he was allowed to finish.

"I know what I said." Bokuto raised his voice. "But if you tell me that he'll die without professional help then I won't insist on keeping him here."

"But we don't know what they'll do in a hospital. Angels don't just walk around in broad daylight. For all they know, they don't exist." Kuroo reasoned. "What if the media catch wind of him and he'll make the headlines? What if some researchers will capture him and use him as some sort of specimen? There are so many things that could go wrong."

Bokuto just stared at his hands helplessly. "Then what do you suggest we do? What would they do in a hospital if he were a human?"

"Cleanse the wound, then sew it up." Kuroo shrugged. "Standard procedure."

"Sew?" Bokuto blinked in surprise.

"If you leave it open it'll just get infected again. New skin won't be able to grow quickly enough. The wound must be sealed for it to begin healing. I mean, just look at it. You can see the scapula right there. His fucking shoulder blade is partially exposed to air." Kuroo explained with a wince.

"You're kidding." Bokuto immediately got to his feet to look at wound, wide-eyed. He had looked at previously but never closely enough to notice the details; he never wanted to see them. Now, he easily noticed the sliver of the pale bone poking through the red flesh, and recoiled from the sight.

"I told you it's bad." Kuroo argued.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Bokuto asked, his desperation growing. "If we can't take him to a hospital then what the fuck do we do?"

Kuroo ran his palm down his face, let it rest on his lips for a moment before releasing a deep sigh and dropping his hand to his side. "I'll operate."

"What?" Bokuto was certain he had misheard.

"I'll sew him up. I'll do it." Kuroo insisted with a deeper inhale, as though trying to give himself courage.

"Isn't it risky?" Bokuto worried.

"Of course it's risky, I'm a fucking vet!" Kuroo snapped, the tension getting to him. "Not even that. An assistant. I've never worked with humans before."

Bokuto fell silent for a moment, wondering whether it was a good idea. It was the only one they had. "What are his odds?"

"If we can get sterile equipment in here, probably fifty-fifty." Kuroo assessed. "If not – none."

"Are you sure about this? You don't have to do it." Bokuto argued, not wanting to force his friend into something so dangerous, something he really shouldn't be doing.

"Kou, what other choice do we have?" Kuroo opened his arms in question. "I came here expecting to do something like that. And I can do it. It's just stitching up skin. I've done it on dogs and cats, I can do it on a human."

"But can you do it on an angel?" Akaashi's rough voice reached them from the head of the bed.

"You're awake." Bokuto all but gasped, kneeling by his side.

"I've been awake this entire time. I just didn't want to interrupt." Akaashi explained quietly. "So, can you?"

"I should be able to. You're not that different from humans, apart from the wings." Kuroo reasoned. "I'm Kuroo, by the way."

"Akaashi." The angel nodded lightly. "And wing."

"What?" Kuroo watched him in confusion.

"I'm not that different apart from the wing." Akaashi corrected. "Single, not plural. Not anymore."

"…My bad." Kuroo winced, feeling awkward for touching on a subject that the angel was clearly self-conscious about.

"How do you feel?" Bokuto cut in.

"As bad as I look." Akaashi sighed. "And thirsty. I think my fever is better, but apart from that everything really hurts."

"Show me." Kuroo reached to his forehead and the angel flinched upon his touch. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Just cold." Akaashi spoke softly, at this point hardly even caring for a stranger's hand on his body.

"You're still feverish. It shouldn't be deadly but it's nothing good either." Kuroo explained. "Kou, can you get me a thermometer?"

Bokuto bit his lip. "I… don't have one."

"…How can you not own a thermometer?" Kuroo raised his brows.

"I can tell if I'm feverish and can't come to work, I don't need a precise measurement." He shrugged simply.

"That just sounds irresponsible to me." Kuroo shook his head. "But alright, we'll do without one."

"Sorry." Bokuto hung his head, embarrassed.

"Don't apologize." Kuroo nudged him with his elbow lightly, letting him know that they were fine, before turning back to Akaashi. "On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?"

"Seven? Eight?" The angel offered, uncertain.

"Why not higher?" Kuroo wondered.

"If it were any higher then I wouldn't be able to talk to you." Akaashi snapped, slowly tiring of the questions.

"Fair point." Kuroo admitted. "When did you last drink water?"

"…I don't know the exact time." The angel confessed.

"Kou?" The man turned to Bokuto.

"The day before yesterday. I wanted him to drink but sitting up hurt him too much so…" he trailed off, feeling guilty for not helping him replenish his fluids.

"I understand. But he's dehydrated and we'll need to fix that." Kuroo noted. "Did you give him any pain killers?"

"Ever since he stopped drinking, I couldn't." Bokuto explained with a helpless motion of the hands.

"I see." Kuroo nodded and turned back to the angel. "Do you mind if I touch your wing?"

Akaashi took a deep breath. "I don't mind. Just be careful."

"But what's the point?" Bokuto sighed impatiently.

"I want to make sure I'm not missing anything so that I know what we'll need and what to do." Kuroo briefed, reaching to the remaining wing. "And look."

He ran his fingers down the top edge of the wing and they both watched as small, fluffy feathers easily tumbled off the angel's wing under his touch. Feathers that should have been resistant to winds of great speeds now fell under the gentle fingers of one man. Kuroo didn't dare touch any of the larger feathers on the lower end of his wing, fearing that they too would come away with little to no effort.

Giving them a proper look, Bokuto realized that the feathers were ruffled, and had dulled, grayed and thinned compared to the time when he originally found him, suggesting that their owner was ill. A thin pile of small feathers that began gathering by Akaashi's side, having fallen entirely on their own before Kuroo even arrived, only confirmed his suspicions. But he knew that much already.

"He's molting." Bokuto shrugged. "It's not a good sign but we know the cause. Why are you pointing this out?"

"Don't you think it's a bit rapid?" Kuroo questioned. "He shouldn't be losing so many feathers so quickly."

"He's _weak_. He's been struggling with a fever for three days, it's not odd for him to lose feathers." Bokuto argued.

"Maybe." Kuroo admitted. "Or maybe it's something worse."

"Like what?" Bokuto knitted his brows.

"Does it hurt when I press here?" Kuroo asked Akaashi as he placed his index finger on the base of his remaining wing.

The muffled moan he gave should have been enough of an answer, but he pronounced the word anyway: "Yes."

"So what? You're touching too close to the wound, of course it'd hurt." Bokuto replied, agitated.

"Kou, don't you see it?" The man asked, incredulous. "The infection is already killing cells in and outside the wound. This can quickly lead to necrosis that could easily spread to the other wing. And no matter what, we are _not_ equipped for an amputation."

"Fuck the equipment, he won't _survive_ another amputation." Bokuto reminded him.

"Then we have to act fast." Kuroo stated simply. "Akaashi, can you still move your wing?"

"I can. But I don't want to." The angel spoke reluctantly.

"Why not?" Kuroo blinked in confusion.

"Because it moves the skin on my back and that in turn makes the gaping hole where my wing used to be hurt even more." Akaashi explained with a pained sigh.

"Can you at least shake it a little? Just for a moment?" Kuroo pleaded gently.

Akaashi shut his eyes tightly, lifted his wing off the bed and immediately let it fall back onto the mattress with a groan. "Are you happy?"

"Yes." Kuroo admitted, reaching over to his wing once more. "Can you feel where I'm touching you?"

"Yes, the alula area." Akaashi replied breathily.

"Good." Kuroo exhaled in relief. "If we operate today, we can easily save the remaining wing. It's good that you called me."

"Wing aside, can we save _him_?" Bokuto felt like for once, he knew his priorities.

"Like I said, it's fifty-fifty. Point is, we can't wait much longer." Kuroo insisted "I know all I needed to know now, it's time to call Kenma."

"Wait, we're telling him?" Bokuto stared at him wide-eyed.

"How else will we get the necessary equipment?"Kuroo shot back. "He's the only one who can help us. And he won't tell anyone either. You know he's not big on talking."

"I know." Bokuto sighed. "Fine, call him."

"I know I promised, but it's just Kenma." Kuroo knew his friend wasn't happy. "We won't manage much without him."

"I know, I understand." Bokuto shook his head. "I'm not upset at you, it's just this situation."

"Okay." Kuroo softly placed his hand on the man's forearm. "It'll be okay. You trust us, right?"

"I do." Bokuto affirmed. "And I know. So just call him already. We're wasting time."

"Yeah." Kuroo nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping the screen before bringing it to his ear. "Kenma? I'm sorry, I'll need you to pilfer from your father's hospital again."

"Right now?" Bokuto could hear the voice of his friend's boyfriend through the speaker in the phone.

"Yes, right now. It's an emergency." Kuroo spoke sternly. "I'm sorry about this."

"It's fine. Not the first time, not the last time." Kenma's shrug was virtually audible. "What exactly do you need and where do you need it?"

"Bokuto's apartment." Kuroo began. "The list is a little long so get out a notepad."

"Way ahead of you." Kenma announced. "Is Bokuto okay? Did something happen?"

"Something happened, but not to him." Kuroo explained. "We've got someone with a large infected wound here."

"Are we getting into a lot of shit?" Kenma wondered.

"If we succeed, hopefully not." Kuroo sighed. "If we fail… you'll see for yourself."

"Noted." Kenma acknowledged.

* * *

When Kuroo finished dictating all they needed, Kenma replied. "I'll need at least an hour to get all of this. How urgent is it?"

"We can survive an hour."Kuroo nodded, before remembering one last thing. "And Kenma. Bring us a thermometer while you're at it."

"Really?" Bokuto mouthed silently at his friend.

"That should be the easiest to obtain." Kenma declared. "I'll see you in about an hour then."

They said their goodbyes and Kuroo pocketed his phone. Bokuto watched him in silence and Kuroo replied with the same for a longer moment.

"So, what do we do now?"Bokuto voiced what all three of them were thinking.

"Clean the wound and get it ready for the procedure." Kuroo announced. "I hope you have disposable gloves, sterile gauze, antiseptics and antibiotics?"

"Got plenty." Bokuto assured, already moving around and out of the room to gather all the items they would need.

"Um, Kuroo-san." Akaashi spoke up quietly. "Would you mind explaining to me what will happen now?"

"Right."Kuroo kneeled by the bed while Bokuto readied all they would need, figuring that the angel deserved to know their plans. "Using an antiseptic and some gauze, I'll gently wipe your wound and make sure that it's clean and there is no build-up. That's all we'll do for now."

"…You'll have to touch it, right?" he asked meekly, seeming even smaller than before.

"Unfortunately." Kuroo sighed. "But-"

"I have iodine and some pure alcohol." Bokuto announced, holding up the two bottles. "Think we can use them?"

"Is the iodine concentrated?" The man asked in turn.

"I wouldn't be able to tell you." Bokuto shrugged, extending the hand with the bottle in his friend's direction. "Here."

Kuroo unscrewed the cap, took a whiff and almost immediately choked on the smell. "Dude, this could kill a man."

"So too concentrated or…?" Bokuto asked, uncertain.

"Do you have any distilled water?" Kuroo wondered.

"No, why would I?" Bokuto all but scoffed.

"Then this will be good enough." Kuroo sighed "It should kill the bacteria, too."

"I heard you shouldn't use iodine though." Bokuto argued.

"Not usually." Kuroo agreed. "It slows healing and damages tissue but in this case, that's what we want."

"Fair." Bokuto shrugged. "And the alcohol?"

"Keep it here. It'll come in useful." Kuroo tapped the bedside table.

"You were saying?" Akaashi spoke up, feeling that Kuroo hadn't finished speaking to him before they were interrupted.

"I was saying that the disinfection won't feel nice and I'm sorry about that." Kuroo explained. "But if it's any comfort, later we'll numb your back entirely and you won't feel anything during the surgery."

"Wait, we're not going to put him under?" Bokuto questioned, the furrow in his brows deepening.

"No, we'll just administer analgesia." Kuroo shook his head.

"But what if he moves or-" Bokuto wasn't given the chance to finish the question.

"I am not an anesthesiologist, he will not be anesthetized." Kuroo spoke firmly. "We won't have the equipment, I don't know the dosage, and if I put him under then he would never wake up again. We are not putting him at an even higher risk. That's all."

"You're right." Bokuto sighed. "But this won't be an easy surgery."

"I never thought it would be easy." Kuroo admitted. "But it's not like we have a choice."

Bokuto only shrugged, his gaze on the floor.

"Do you have any ice?" Kuroo asked, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "His fever isn't that high but we want it to stay that way."

"Sure." Bokuto left the room once more and soon returned with a few small bags of ice. He placed them on all the exposed vital spots of Akaashi's body and saw him shiver. "Sorry."

"It's fine." The angel assured.

"So, can we begin the cleansing?" Kuroo asked, bottle of iodine in one hand and a folded piece of clean gauze in the other.

"Not really?" Akaashi pronounced softly, closing his eyes in resignation.

"Come on, man." Kuroo kneeled beside him. "I know it hurts, but you know what they say. Pain makes you stronger."

"Really?" his eyes shot open, a tired sort of anger threaded through his words. "Because I've never felt weaker than now. Would you suggest a larger dose of pain then?"

"You're right." Kuroo sighed. "I guess they say bullshit sometimes. I'll be gentle and I'll try to be quick, but we really have to do this, okay? Can I do it?"

"Fine." The angel agreed. "But I want Bokuto-san to sit here."

"Deal." Kuroo nodded and elbowed Bokuto in the thigh. "That's a price I can easily pay."

"Won't you need my help?" Bokuto blinked in surprise.

"It'll be faster if I do it alone." Kuroo insisted. "And Akaashi needs mental support, so this all works out perfectly."

"Fair enough." Bokuto shrugged and quickly switched positions by the bed with his friend. He placed his hand on the mattress and Akaashi caught his fingers in his own.

"Whenever you're ready." The angel exhaled and held his breath, knowing what was coming.

"Here we go then." Kuroo tilted the bottle of iodine on the gauze for a brief moment, before returning the brown bottle to the bedside table. The next instant he ran the gauze down the length of the wound in a quick, light swipe and felt the angel tense under his touch and bury his face in the pillow. With another swipe, he removed the remains of a half-formed scab at the edges of the wound and blood clots within it, causing the angel to release a long, monotonous groan. A moment later he pressed an iodine-soaked wad harder against the wound, wiping away the pus and quickly witnessed as the angel's back began heaving up and down as he struggled to stifle his sobs.

"I know." Kuroo cooed softly, aware of the fact that he couldn't even imagine how much it must have hurt but wanting to somehow comfort the poor creature who deserved better than this. "Just a little bit longer. Hang in there. We're almost done."

He poured the solution over another folded piece of gauze and ran it around the edges of the wound, disinfecting the skin around it along with it. With another wet piece of gauze he pressed down the entire length and depth of the wound and decided that this would be enough for the moment. It was all the cleaning he could do, especially when hearing the angel's labored breathing and muffled whimpers. He did everything according to procedure, and although he could repeat it, he really saw no point in torturing the poor angel any longer.

"Alright, I'm done." He announced, collecting all the used fabric and stepping away from the bed. "I'm finished."

Bokuto, whose fingers were still held tightly in Akaashi's grip, released a breath of relief.

The angel refused to lift his face or stop his body from shaking with his sobs until Kuroo addressed him. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was." He answered quietly, revealing his wet red face.

"I'm sorry." Kuroo apologized solemnly, meaning every syllable.

"It's fine." Akaashi shook his head, attempting to take deeper breaths to somehow calm himself. "You did the right thing."

"I'm glad you think so." Kuroo quirked his lips. "You can rest now. It'll still be a while until our equipment is here."

He sat by the bed and watched his friend and the angel in silence.

Bokuto blinked away the tears in his own eyes, raised one of his hands and hovered it above Akaashi's head. "Can I?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Akaaashi smiled lightly and closed his eyes as Bokuto gently placed his hand on his hair and wiped his wet cheek with his thumb.

"It'll be okay." Bokuto assured, tenderly running his fingers through his hair. "You'll be okay."

He cupped his cheek and pressed their foreheads together. "Everything will be okay soon. Stay strong just a little longer."

Akaashi's breathing calmed and he relaxed under the man's touch, falling into a light sleep as Bokuto slowly, fondly stroked his hair.

"Kou." Kuroo finally felt like he could quietly voice what seemed obvious to him.

"Don't say it." Bokuto sighed.

"So you do?" Kuroo wondered, knowing that Bokuto realized what he meant.

"I don't know." Bokuto admitted. "Right now, I just want to save him."

"We'll save him." Kuroo assured, softly petting his friend's shoulder despite feeling his hands tremble when he thought about the inevitable prospect of having to operate on a human.

He was not ready.

If the angel died, it would be his fault.

Even so, he pronounced the words with conviction: "We'll save him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When did this fic become House MD again...? xD
> 
> I don't know why but I really enjoy doing all the medical research for this story and trying to make it make as accurate and realistic as possible (forgive me if I fail :') ).
> 
> If you're not into that - no worries, the medical aspect of the story should be over soon.
> 
> It's been 2 months but I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far and the recent developments! As always, your feedback means the world to me. <3
> 
> Thanks for sticking around despite my irregular update schedule and for all the support. :D Hope you guys have a great week!
> 
> PS: I have a Tumblr now where I'll be posting all the updates, so if you wanna make sure that you don't miss anything, come follow me at beautybutterbae.tumblr.com . I might also end up writing some of my personal thoughts and describing my progress on fics over there, so if I ever make you wait for a new chapter for so long, I might explain the reason for that there. Also if you feel like sending me a message or asking me a question, that's also perfectly cool. Anyway, thanks again. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Remember me? It's okay, I barely remember myself lol. It's been over... 4 months?
> 
> Yeah, I'm sorry about that. :')
> 
> If you're still following this fic though, then god bless you and your patience, you don't know how much I appreciate it. <3
> 
> Thank you for your continuous support and I hope you enjoy the new chapter! ^^
> 
> Notes: I've lost my beta reader/proof-reader so my writing may contain more mistakes now. :x Also, I did as much research as I could about medical stuff but please suspend your disbelief as much as you can because I did my best but I'm really not a doctor lol.
> 
> Trigger warnings: suicidal thoughts

Kenma arrived a little under an hour after Kuroo cleansed the wound. He entered Bokuto's apartment carrying a large backpack, a metal stand for the IV drip and a wheeled metal table.

Bokuto stared at him as he unzipped the backpack and began placing the sterilely packed utensils, fabrics and cleaning agents on his bedroom floor. "How do you actually get away with this?"

Kenma only glanced at him and shrugged before continuing the task at hand. "I make sure no one's looking. Take routes where no one will see me. And if someone does – I tell them my dad asked me to go get the equipment replaced."

"And they believe you?" Bokuto raised an eyebrow in clear doubt.

"They wouldn't ask my father anyway." Kenma shook his head, getting the bleached hair out of his eyes. "And he's asked me to do some odd jobs in the past so most of the staff shrugs me off."

"Fair enough." Bokuto nodded lightly, following Kuroo's boyfriend and their assistant for the afternoon around with his gaze.

As Kenma motioned to disinfect the table, he finally looked up at the bed and saw the man they would be operating on for the first time. "Oh."

"Yeah." Kuroo sighed in agreement.

"You forgot to mention that in the phone call." Kenma blinked, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"We have to be careful." Kuroo explained. "No one can know."

"Yeah, I figured." Kenma shrugged, returning to his work. "But how's that even possible?"

"No idea, Bokuto found him." Kuroo offered.

"Don't look at me." Bokuto raised his hands defensively, though quite unnecessarily, as both of his friends focused on the preparations for the surgery. "I don't know either. Nobody knows, really. We were trying to find out but then… this happened."

"Want me to help you search?" Kenma brushed his hair aside and actually looked at Bokuto this time. "Once we've fixed him, I mean. I've got access to the deep web, maybe it's related to something shady."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Kuroo sighed with resignation. "I know you like that stuff but there are things you just shouldn't play around with."

"Not if you know what you're doing." Kenma shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"I'll have to trust you on that one." Kuroo agreed, before turning to Bokuto and changing the topic. "Can you wake him up?"

"Not sleeping." Came a soft voice from the angel's lips, though his closed eyes and lack of movement suggested otherwise.

"Good." Kuroo nodded. "I'm assuming you'd like to hear what will happen now, step by step?"

"Yes, please." Akaashi replied, his voice quiet.

"I'll need to put this needle through your hand," he began, showing him the sharp end of the IV drip. "And hook you up to a device that will keep you hydrated. You won't need to drink water – it'll just enter your system through the tube."

"Sounds like it'll hurt." Akaashi admitted with a wince.

"Not any more than anything you've experienced recently." Kuroo sighed, reaching for the antiseptic and some fresh gauze with which to wipe the angel's hand. "The faster we get it over with, the sooner you'll start healing. Your current dehydration is impeding any regeneration and is partly what's killing you."

Akaashi only nodded weakly and closed his eyes. "Just do it." He whispered.

The angel waited in the slightly spinning darkness under his eyelids, expecting the metal to pierce his skin any minute. And yet, seconds passed, and his hand remained intact. Hearing footsteps and quiet rustling above his head, he opened his eyes and watched Kuroo place a plastic bag filled with a clear liquid on a tall metal stand, and adjust the tubing below. He observed his actions in confusion.

"I have to prepare the IV drip first." The vet assistant explained. "Sorry if it's anticlimactic."

"I don't mind." Akaashi sighed to his best ability.

"Now." Kuroo finally kneeled by the bed and grabbed Akaashi's hand. "You'll feel a little sting."

He closed his eyes and held his breath, knowing that he would manage, that it would only last a few seconds. And yet, when the needle entered his hand he felt a sudden surge of panic and instinctively he pulled away with a yelp. As soon as he realized what he had done, he opened his eyes and looked at the slightly startled Kuroo with a clear apology in his gaze.

The man only sighed. "Kenma, come hold his arm."

"Sorry, got my hands full." The other man replied simply. "Someone has to get everything ready."

"Bokuto?" Kuroo turned to his friend with a light shake of the head. "Can you do it?"

Bokuto only pressed his lips together and nodded.

He kneeled beside the bed and held Akaashi's wrist, whispering a short: "I'm sorry."

Restraining people made him feel sick, even if it was for their own good. It made him wonder if he truly knew what was good.

Bokuto only closed his eyes as he saw Kuroo begin another attempt at getting to Akaashi's bloodstream with the sanitized needle. He only felt the jerk of the angel's hand and simply squeezed it tighter, kept it stable as Akaashi released a prolonged but quiet whine.

"There." Kuroo signaled, nudging Bokuto's arm as he taped the tube to Akaashi's hand. "You're okay."

Bokuto opened his eyes to see Akaashi taking deeper breaths and nodding weakly. He _was_ okay. Bokuto figured he must have simply been startled by the needle, there was nothing wrong otherwise. He exhaled in relief. They were one step closer to helping the angel survive, having now secured a method of hydrating him. Bokuto hoped it would only get easier from here on out.

As he sat by the bed, watching Kenma and Kuroo prepare everything for the procedure, occasionally moving out of the way and reassuring the angel, he thought that they might just manage this.

That they might just be okay.

* * *

There was another side to Bokuto's thoughts, however, the rational one, the one which recognized how utterly insane everything they were doing was.

Neither Kuroo nor Kenma let it show but their chances of success were low, what with their limited supplies and a less than sanitary bedroom. Bokuto realized that much – even the simplest surgery could go horribly wrong if any object in contact with the wound was contaminated. He trusted Kenma to have taken good care of the utensils but in their current setting, the chances of something undesired entering Akaashi's body alongside the scalpels and needles were higher than ever.

The entire venture was nothing more than a gamble, put together by a group of friends in one morning, like some science project for school on which they procrastinated until the very last moment. Except the project was a dying human being and the friends were making a desperate attempt at saving him, without the slightest knowledge whether or not he still could be saved. Bokuto wondered if he hadn't contacted Kuroo too late, whether all of their effort would be for nothing.

But only time could tell.

And yet somehow time was the least reassuring thing at the moment, as with every minute they inched closer to the moment Kuroo – someone who had no business operating alone on an animal, much less a human – would sink his instruments into the angel's decaying back.

Bokuto had always struggled with math but he was certain that their chances of success were below 50%. That was, if percentages even mattered. Their chances could have been 99% but what would it change if Akaashi turned out to be the single unlikely percent?

Bokuto ceased to think about percentages. They were numbers, theoretical calculations which barely reflected real life.

What they needed was something practical to give them strength.

Bokuto came to one conclusion:

Practically, they were only fucked.

And yet Kuroo and Kenma worked tirelessly to get everything ready, to prepare everything as perfectly as the situation would allow. Bokuto wasn't certain if they believed their cause of if they were doing their best to simply stop their consciences from nagging them about letting a man die later down the road.

Bokuto was only certain that he couldn't share his thoughts with his friends who worked so earnestly for his sake, who were doing all this on his request. They went out of their way to do so much despite knowing that it may all be futile in the end.

Their effort was reassuring in some way; Bokuto felt that Akaashi couldn't possibly die when so many people did so much to keep him alive.

Seeing the thin, pale angel, both sweating and shivering at the same time, his breathing shallow and his expression tired, so tired, shattered that hope.

Shattered as it was, the hope remained in Bokuto, as though he couldn't bring himself to throw away the shards that were left behind. He knew he would only get hurt if he kept the sharp fragments around, but he held onto them, as gently as he could, hoping that they would not cut deep, that maybe despite being broken, they could be of some use.

Thus, Bokuto kept his fears and doubts at bay.

They would go through with the surgery and Bokuto would help as much as he could.

Even if it would all be pointless in the end.

Everything still had a point now.

Bokuto was not about to forsake that.

* * *

"We're ready." Kuroo announced, pulling Bokuto out of his own head. He had no idea how long he had been lost in his thoughts, and how much time had passed since they connected Akaashi to the IV drip. He only knew he was still softly holding onto the angel's hand, stroking gentle circles on his wrist.

"What now?" Bokuto asked simply, partly for his own sake, partly for Akaashi's.

"Analgesia, disinfection, then surgery." Kuroo listed off.

"Should I leave?" Bokuto suggested. He could swear the momentary twitch of Akaashi's arm under his fingers wasn't just his imagination.

"You can stay for now." Kuroo assured softly. "Just wear a mask and gloves and don't touch him."

Bokuto nodded and made for the necessary equipment.

Sitting back down by the head of the bed, he tucked his legs under him, hoping to get in the way as little as possible. He caught Akaashi's gaze and attempted a reassuring smile, only then realizing that his mouth was covered by the mask. He hoped his eyes conveyed the gesture regardless. Still, he felt it necessary to add: "You'll be okay."

"I know." Akaashi whispered back.

"Just focus on me, okay?" Bokuto asked, seeing Kuroo nod and reach for the alcohol soaked cotton swab with one hand and a large syringe with the other.

"I am." Akaashi pronounced before wincing as Kuroo swiped at his back and inserted the needle under his skin. He closed his eyes, clenched his fist and shivered as the man repeated the procedure three more times. He began gasping for air when suddenly…

There was nothing.

His breath calmed. His eyes widened.

All of a sudden, his lips stretched in the last shape Bokuto would expect.

He smiled.

His expression softened and he giggled. "It doesn't hurt."

Bokuto simply blinked at him, too overwhelmed to speak.

Luckily, Kuroo hadn't been affected in the same way. "Congrats. You've just discovered how analgesia works. But you're not fixed yet, so don't get too carried away."

"I honestly don't care." Akaashi laughed and Bokuto flinched at how genuine it was. He was entranced by the image that should not have been taking place in front of him.

The angel dug his arms into the mattress and began hoisting himself up, as though he were fine.

Bokuto couldn't help thinking it was some sort of miracle.

It wasn't.

Akaashi's arms quickly gave under him and he fell head first into his pillow.

"I understand that this is huge for you, I really do, but can you please lay still?" Kuroo did his best not to groan. "I can't operate otherwise."

"One last thing." Akaashi panted, already exhausted by the effort of pushing himself up, but attempting it again. "Just one last thing and I won't disrupt you again, okay?"

He reached around one of Bokuto's shoulders before his other arm failed him and he was forced to cling to the back of the man's shirt in a desperate embrace. He shifted his arms to his best ability and graced him with a warm hug, his lips lightly pressed to his check before whispering: "Thank you for everything."

He let go and fell back onto the mattress, his eyes remaining on Bokuto, a few tears glazing their surface.

Bokuto somehow felt a tightness in his throat, a familiar burn in his eyes.

The words and actions didn't feel like thanks.

They felt like a goodbye.

"You'll be okay." Bokuto assured, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

"I know." Akaashi sighed, closing his eyes. "But I'm so… tired."

Bokuto hectically glanced to Kuroo who only opened his arms helplessly, then back to Akaashi as he nestled on the pillow. He stilled.

He didn't move again.

"Did he…?" Bokuto barely whispered, too afraid of the answer.

Kuroo immediately leaned over the angel, pressing his fingers to his neck, bringing his ear to his nose.

After a painfully long moment, he straightened his back with a relieved sigh. "He's fine. Just asleep."

"…But you said no anesthesia?" Bokuto knitted his brows.

"Yeah. I didn't put him under." Kuroo insisted defensively. "He just… fell asleep."

"Is the analgesic opioid-based then?" Bokuto blinked in confusion.

"No, it's not a sedative. Not even as a side-effect." Kuroo argued.

"So he just fell asleep?" Bokuto did his best to understand what had transpired but it all made little sense to him.

"Yeah, he just fell asleep." Kuroo nodded. "He's had a rough few days. Some painless, non fever-induced sleep will do him good. And it'll make our job easier. Two birds with one stone."

"You have a point." Bokuto admitted. "But won't he wake up?"

"His back has absolutely no sensation now." Kuroo poked a spot a few centimeters under the angel's wound to prove his point. He didn't move. "He'll be good for the next few hours."

"Okay." Bokuto exhaled, his breath shaky, calm, and yet so anxious.

"Maybe you could join him?" Kuroo suggested.

"Where?" Bokuto tilted his head.

"In sleeping." Kuroo explained. "You've barely slept, right? You need rest, too. Go make yourself comfortable in the living room and we'll get you once we're done."

"I want to stay though." Bokuto argued quietly. "Just… in case."

"Go sleep, Bokuto." Kuroo insisted softly. "It's up to us now. He'll be happier knowing that you're taking care of yourself. And to be honest, I don't want you to sit here getting stressed out of your mind – that's just as bad for you, if not worse."

"You're right." Bokuto sighed. "Don't think I can really sleep like this though."

"Try, alright?" Kuroo nodded. "We'll tell you if anything at all happens. Your being in the room changes nothing."

"Yeah." Bokuto agreed, heading for the door. Before pressing down on the doorknob, he caught Kuroo's gaze. "Take good care of him, okay? I trust you."

"We will." Kuroo assured. "See you soon."

"See you." Bokuto exhaled as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Kuroo and Kenma looked at each other for a few seconds as they listened to Bokuto's footsteps shuffling away from the door.

When Kenma was certain he heard Bokuto throw himself on the couch, he softly asked: "You're freaking out, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, this is insane." Kuroo whisper-yelled.

"But you'll do it?" Kenma blinked intently.

"Of course I will." Kuroo sighed. "I'm the only one who can."

"Okay." The blond nodded and allowed his gaze to travel to their sterilized tools. "I believe in you."

"Thanks." He forced a smile. "Let's hope that's enough."

Apart from Kenma's sincere support, Kuroo's shaking hands and his vague knowledge of what he was to do, hope was all they really had.

Their resources may have been limited and Kuroo's hours of practice may have been insufficient but hope...

Hope they had in abundance.

* * *

When Akaashi woke up, he was convinced he was dead.

He refused to open his eyes but he could see that his surroundings were both bright and dark, an uncomfortable mix of the two that shouldn't exist.

His body felt heavy but on the other hand he felt nothing, only a numbness embracing his flesh.

He was well-rested, but tired, so tired. Another impossible contradiction.

A piercing smell filled the air, almost pungent, but somehow calming and warm at the same time.

He turned his head and the fabric that softly caressed his cheek also felt as though it was tearing his skin off.

He must have found himself in purgatory, that was his conclusion.

He wondered what the place must look like, but figured he would simply wait for his judgement in the bright darkness that surrounded him. Curiosity seemed to him like the greatest sin.

He soon heard a voice, but one that couldn't have possibly belonged to Saint Peter or God or anyone of that realm.

"Come on, I can tell you're not asleep." It wasn't Bokuto's, that much he could tell. "At least say something so I can relax."

It wasn't distressed either. It was a low, breathy mumble with a hint of smile shining through the unmistakable exhaustion.

Akaashi wasn't particularly familiar with it but he recognized it.

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, only to be met with the dark head of spiky hair and a face he saw earlier that same day.

"Kuroo-san." He pronounced quietly, his voice rough around the edges but clearer than it had ever been in the past few days.

"That's me." The man smiled lightly, his head somewhat blocking out the bright sunlight spilling out of the window onto Akaashi's face. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. Mostly numb." He answered simply. "You can probably start now."

"Start…? Oh." Kuroo broke out in a laughter that visibly released the tension from his body. He leaned against the bedside table in more comfort than previously. "We're long done here, just waiting to check on you now. Bastard gets a full-blown shoulder blade reconstruction surgery and sleeps through it all like nothing happened."

"Thank you." Akaashi pronounced, catching Kuroo's gaze and maintaining eye contact. "I really appreciate everything."

"It's nothing." Kuroo smirked, slowly reaching over to Akaashi's face to tuck in a stray curl of bangs from his eye. "I mean, it's definitely _not_ nothing, but I'm just glad to help. Happy to see you… not dying, you know."

"I'm quite happy about that myself." Akaashi admitted, all but allowing the corners of his lips to rise the tiniest bit. "Where's Bokuto-san?"

"That's your first question?" Kuroo chuckled. "He's sleeping in the living room, Kenma's waiting for him to wake up. We said we'd wake him up when we were done but we want to let him rest a bit. It's been a rough few days for him."

"Yeah." Akaashi released a shallow sigh. "Good choice. He deserves sleep after everything."

"Inappropriate question but were you conscious enough to remember anything from those three days?" Kuroo wondered out loud.

The angel agreed that it was an inappropriate question but he didn't mind answering. "Not much apart from the pain and being forced to drink water. But Bokuto-san was there the entire time. It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't sleep or eat."

"That's what we're suspecting." Kuroo nodded. "But don't worry, I won't let the bastard sacrifice himself for you. I'd prefer to see both of you in good health."

"Thanks." Akaashi closed his eyes humbly. He took a few calm breaths, wondering how to fill this silence, before coming up with: "So you think he'll be fine?"

"Oh he'll be right back on his feet, he's a tough guy." Kuroo assured with a wave of the hand. "But really? You're not gonna ask about the surgery? Nothing at all?"

"Well, I think I know enough as it is." Akaashi all but shrugged before remembering how much such movement would hurt. "I'm not dead and you seem quite relaxed so… it must have been a success?"

"Who knows?" Kuroo opened his arms in mock helplessness. "Maybe I've given up and accepted the fact that you're dying and the only reason you're okay now is because the painkiller is tricking your brain into not feeling anything, but you're actually well on your way to being 6 feet under as we speak?"

"Maybe." Akaashi hummed. "To be honest I wouldn't mind either way. As long as it doesn't hurt, I'm fine with anything."

"I'd shove you right now if I hadn't just finished stitching you up." Kuroo groaned. "Don't say such bullshit. Don't say you wouldn't mind dying when I literally just spent hours keeping you alive. That's fucking rude, you know?"

"Sorry." Akaashi blinked in realization. "I should think before I speak."

"Damn right, you should." Kuroo sighed, his voice tired, lacking the punch that Akaashi expected to hear. After a brief moment of silence, he added: "Must have been hard on you though, hasn't it?"

"What do you think?" Akaashi all but scoffed, lowering his voice to a whisper. "No one ever really wants to die."

"Yeah. They just think death is the lesser of two evils." Kuroo added equally softly, almost as though he were talking to himself, his eyes trailing the floor. "But that's bullshit."

Akaashi didn't bother responding. He had nothing to add. If he were to use Kuroo's vocabulary, he would call his new crippled life bullshit. From the moment he found himself on the cold hard ground he barely moved, much less walked, trips to the bathroom aside. In his mind, it wasn't a life worth living.

The silence engulfed them once more and they remained still, both lost in their own thoughts, too dark to share with the near stranger right beside them. They both felt like they knew more than the other could comprehend, both felt like there was no point explaining. They were both tired, neither ready for the long argument that would break out should they continue the topic as they were.

So they didn't, instead keeping their thoughts to themselves.

Finally, Akaashi spoke. "You wanted to tell me about the surgery? Then go ahead. I'd like to know what I should expect."

"It was successful, but yeah, you know that already." Kuroo began, tilting his neck until he heard a satisfying crack, then proceeding to roll his shoulders. "Took about 2 hours, but I wasn't counting so who knows. I removed dead tissue, cleaned everything out as best I could, then slowly stitched you back up and here you are. I'd say I did all I could and more. It's all up to your immune system now. And speaking of which – your immune system is weakened so you're getting extra meds intravenously. You know, dissolved in the solution from the IV drip."

"I see." The angel hummed in acknowledgement. "Anything I should and shouldn't do?"

"Yeah, don't move. Like, at all." Kuroo explained emphatically. "We don't want the stitches coming undone and they're in a pretty terrible spot where they'll tear apart if you as much as try to sit up or move your arms around. It's not that I wouldn't be able to stitch you up again but the longer the wound is open and not healing, the higher your chances of infection, meaning lower chances of survival. So we'd all rather avoid that."

"And how long can't I move?" Akaashi wondered. He wasn't particularly eager to get up and exercise – he was certain he wouldn't even have the energy to sit up properly – but being bound to the bed was becoming uncomfortable, physically and mentally.

"I'd say three days, just to be on the safe side." Kuroo declared. "I'll be checking on you but that's the bare minimum, especially with the location of your wound."

"Really?" Akaashi groaned. There was only so much time he could stay in bed before he went insane.

"It's for your own good." Kuroo argued sitting up straight. "Okay, look at me. Your wound is pretty much right on your shoulder blade. Look what happens to my back when I move."

He raised and lowered his arms in all plains of movement and changed his position multiple times to illustrate his point. He watched the angel's eyes, making sure they were following his demonstration the entire time.

"See what my shoulder blades are doing? They're the most mobile part of my back and I'm sure you saw them sticking out a few times. I know you're weakened but your muscles and bones are still stronger than a few stitches. Sure, skin is flexible but when it's being held together by a few nylon knots over a spot placed under a lot of stress then you can never be too cautious." Kuroo went on. "That's how I understand it, at least. You're my first non-animal patient so I could be wrong but yeah, I'd rather not risk it. Three days is a fair amount of time – you'll have at least began healing by then and the stiches will be supported by your own tissue underneath."

"Fine." Akaashi finally sighed. "Not like I have the energy to go anywhere anyway."

"I know it always sucks to be told that you can't do something if you were at least kinda thinking of doing it but I hope you understand." Kuroo rested his back on the bedside table once more.

"I do." Akaashi replied. "I want to live, this isn't much of a sacrifice, really."

"Good, glad we're on the same page." Kuroo flashed him a reassuring smile.

The angel was neither able nor willing to smile back.

Kuroo didn't seem bothered by that fact. "Apart from that, you don't have to do anything. Bokuto will take care of the wound from the outside. I'll make sure he knows everything he needs to know about dressing, disinfection and applying antibiotics."

Akaashi had to consciously keep himself from recoiling at the sound of the word. It prompted a question to which he wanted an answer more than anything at the moment.

"You know that painkiller you used? Will it wear off?" he asked, hoping that his desperation wasn't present in his voice.

"Yeah." Kuroo sighed lightly, pained by the answer himself. "It won't last longer than a few hours. And before you ask – I can't reinject it. I'd rather not, at least. It could lead to permanent nerve damage and organ failure. And it's neither cheap nor easy to obtain. I'm sorry."

Akaashi felt his heart sink with every word. He hid his face in the pillow. He couldn't remember the pain exactly – he was glad not to remember – but he did not want to feel it ever again. Tears pressed at his eyelids before he could even tell himself to not cry in front of a stranger.

"Hey, but hear me out." Kuroo began, far softer. "I know it must have hurt like a bitch before but you know why that was? Because you had a huge open bleeding wound on your back. 'Open' is the key word here. I know that Bokuto changed the dressing but bacteria and other shitty things entered it as they pleased just by floating through the air and landing on it. That was preventing the healing even before the proper infection broke out, that's why it even happened in the first place. It'll be different now – it'll actually start healing. Also, disinfection should be much less painful. I mean, before Bokuto would literally pour concentrated chemicals over your fucking muscles and shit. I'd be surprised if that didn't hurt like hell. They're safe now – it's just the skin that's exposed now. I'm not saying it won't hurt because yeah, that'd be a lie, but it'll be better. Sound acceptable?"

Akaashi lifted his head and without looking at Kuroo spoke with a light pout: "Can you promise?"

"Yeah." Kuroo nodded after a moment of thought. "If it hurts as much as before then that means I fucked up or something went wrong, so yeah, if everything will be as it should be then I promise that it'll hurt less than before."

"Okay." Akaashi strained his neck to nod and closed his eyes once more. "So what now?"

"I'm guessing sitting in silence isn't the most fun option?" Kuroo sighed.

"You'd guess correctly." Akaashi agreed. "Now that I think about it… you never did properly introduce yourself. Maybe we could start there?"

"True, but that's because we were trying to keep you from dying so I don't feel all that guilty about it." Kuroo shrugged before letting a small smirk rise to his lips. "It's Kuroo Tetsurou. I don't really mind what you call me, but you can call me Kuroo."

"Nice to meet you." The angel motioned his head down in an attempt at a polite nod. "I'm… Akaashi. Just Akaashi."

"Would that be a first name or a last name?" Kuroo pried with interest.

"I… don't actually know." Akaashi admitted. "It was Bokuto-san's idea. I like the sound of it so that's what it is."

"Let me guess: you're a victim of Bokuto's owl obsession? Somehow, I'm not surprised." Kuroo assumed with a short chuckle.

"Partridge obsession, if anything." Akaashi corrected. "That's what he said, at least."

"Oh yeah, he says that only so that people don't think he's obsessed with just one type of bird." Kuroo argued with a smirk. "But yeah, it's owls for him. Sure, there are multiple _Akaashi_ s in the general class of birds and even in the animal kingdom but I doubt he was thinking about anything other than an owl. Still, it's a nice name. Never thought he'd be capable of naming someone."

"Maybe you don't know Bokuto-san as well as you think you do?" The angel suggested, somehow offended in Bokuto's stead, even though Kuroo's words didn't seem particularly harsh.

"Maybe I don't." Kuroo shrugged. "It's been a while since we were very close."

"You called him 'Kou' earlier." Akaashi pointed out.

Kuroo blinked in surprise. "You heard that? It's a… a leftover of something that used to be there, I guess."

"But you call him simply 'Bokuto' when talking to me." Akaashi continued. "Could I ask what sort of relationship exactly do you have with him?"

Kuroo chuckled, crossing his arms on his chest. "Don't worry, I'm not a threat to you. You can be sure of that."

"That's not what I meant-" Akaashi was about to say when thumping footsteps came running from the kitchen only to throw the door open the next moment.

"Akaashi!" Bokuto burst into the room and threw himself to kneel by the bed with such force that Kuroo grunted as he bumped into his side.

Bokuto didn't bother apologizing and simply placed his hands on the frame of the bed and leaned closer to Akaashi with his desperate questions. "Are you okay? How do you feel? Does it hurt?"

"I'm fine, Bokuto-san." Akaashi assured, the corners of his lips lifting slightly in genuine joy of seeing the man again and being able to tell him that he need not worry.

"Is he really?" Bokuto turned to his friend.

"For now? He's the finest he's been in a long time." Kuroo admitted. "With the right care, he'll get better in no time."

"Thank you so much." Bokuto immediately threw his arms around Kuroo and locked him in a tight embrace.

"Bokuto." Kuroo choked out in a breathless laugh, patting his friend's back in an attempt to communicate that he would like to be released. As soon as he let go, Kuroo's features turned more serious. "But remember that we're not in the clear yet. This is just the beginning, really. It's what happens next that will really matter."

"Yeah, I know." Bokuto admitted with a reluctant nod, his hands dropping to his lap. "But it's progress. After so many days, it's _something_. And we're all gonna do our best to make sure he gets better. Right, Akaashi?"

The angel blinked in surprise for a moment, feeling like he had little, if any, say on whether or not he gets better.

Or did he?

"Yeah, I'll do my best." He nodded, some spirit entering his voice, a will to live finally becoming audible, breaking through the veil of near-death.

Kuroo hummed in agreement and Kenma only nodded, leaning on the doorframe.

"We'll do all we can, but to achieve the best results," Kuroo turned to Bokuto. "We'll need you to stay healthy. When was the last time you ate?"

"Like… two days ago? I think?" Boktuo bit his lip, struggling to remember. "Not that I've felt hungry at all though."

"Yeah, and that's a problem." Kuroo winced, shifting his position to stand up. "Come, we'll make you some food. You can't just run on water. If you want to help him, you need to be physically fit for it."

"Fine." Bokuto sighed, getting to his feet. "I'll probably manage porridge or rice or something."

"Good." Kuroo clapped, joining Bokuto on his way to the kitchen. "Kenma, do you mind staying with Akaashi while we cook?"

"I don't mind." Kenma declared, walked over to the bed and sat beside it in Kuroo's place.

"Akaashi, you think you'll be okay?" Bokuto called from the doorway.

"Yeah." Akaashi replied easily.

For the first time in a long time, the angel genuinely thought he might just be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I... really don't have an excuse for my absence. xD It was a mix of terrible time management, having too much to do, having little motivation and just a lot of procrastination. But you know what? Maybe I needed a break, maybe I was getting a little burnt out. I'm really really enjoying writing again and I'm actually EXCITED to write again, so we might just see each other again soon. :D
> 
> As always, I treasure your feedback so if you have any thoughts and/or feelings, feel free to put them in the comments! I love to read them, they're extremely helpful and you guys don't even realize how much I appreciate them. <3
> 
> Thanks for sticking around despite my stupidly irregular update schedule and for all the support. :D Hope you guys have a great week!


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